Fishing for People
by bballgirl32
Summary: This is the story of the 65th Hunger Games from Finnick Odair's POV. It's unique with a couple of unusual twists, a brief romance that eventually will lead him to Annie, and plenty of action. Please read and review.
1. Only the Beginning

"Come on Finnick, we only have two hours until the reaping," Rafe calls from the beach, his blue eyes bright with worry. I duck my head under the water, ignoring him. My name is in the ball three times. Three out of thousands. And on the off chance I do get picked, I like my chances at winning. Rafe has a reason to be worry. Right now, I have none. The sun is shining, the wind is hardly blowing, and the water is perfect. Moving is absolutely the last thing I want to do.

"Finnick," he shouts again. He's getting edgy, and when he gets edgy he gets mad. I'm not interested in making a guy the size of Rafe mad, especially when he's under so much pressure. He has his name in there 42 times since he's forced to sign up for Tesserae for his entire family of six. I'm not big on working to make other people happy, but I decide to make an exception for him today. His present from me on this beautiful Reaping Day. Besides, I will admit that I am worried for him. If he goes, he'd have a chance at coming back, but still… he's my one friend that actually likes _me_ and not my face.

I pop my head out of the water and shout, "I'm coming." Then I swim towards shore where he's waiting, already wearing some fancy reaping outfit. He keeps running his hands through his thick hair and his face is beet red. I sigh, knowing that I should be saying something to comfort him. I don't want too, though. It seems like a waste of time. He isn't going to the Hunger Games, the odds are too against it.

"There are thousands of names in those balls, I doubt you'll get picked. You don't have to worry," I say, giving him an easy smile. Usually I can get people to relax just by smiling. It doesn't work on him today.

"You can say that. You have to be one of the safest kids in the district." I shrug. It's true, I am, but it isn't my fault.

"Work with what you got, Rafe. Now, I have to go home and get ready for this thing."

"So is this good-bye?" God, he sounds like a girl. Why have I never noticed that before?

"Quit blubbering, you aren't getting picked. If you do, some bonehead will volunteer. You aren't going to that arena."

"But, if I do-"

"Rafe. Shut it. I'll see you after the reaping."

"Finnick, please, I can feel something bad is going to happen today." I turn around sharply and stand as tall as I can, trying to get in his face.

"If you get picked, I'll go in for you. Okay? You have nothing to worry about." Then I walk away, leaving him staring after me. After a couple hundred yards, I realize that might've been stupid. Oh well, if he does get picked, he probably won't come home to be mad at me.

I sigh, knowing that he'd go on that stage and give me some sad look, and I'd end up going in for him no matter what. I couldn't live with myself if Rafe died because then his entire family would die with him. He has a disabled father and four little siblings that are relying on him. My family doesn't care about me. Going in for him would just be the decent thing to do.

I guess I'll wait until this afternoon to see how far I'll go to be decent.

"Finnick." A couple girls start walking towards me. Maria and Clover, maybe. They're in my year at school, but I don't pay any attention to them. They're both stupid blondes that haven't worked a day in their lives. All kinds of girls flock around me, it's to be expected when you look like I do, but these are the ones that I hate the most. The ones that want to go out with me to say they are, not because they like me. I haven't spoken to these girls more than five times in my entire life, and now they're smiling at me like we're best friends.

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to volunteer?" I roll my eyes.

"Why would I? I've got four years left. I'll save my trip to the games for when I'm eighteen, so victory will be guaranteed." They giggle, like I said something funny. I don't think it is. I think that if I don't get picked over the next four years, I'd consider having my family hate me for the rest of my life rather than volunteering to go into the arena. I know being a victor is a huge honor and my family is expecting me to go sometime, but that doesn't mean that I will.

"Oh, that will be so nice. We haven't had a victor from here for ten years."

"Yeah, it will be nice. Now could you leave me alone? I want to spend some time with my little sister before the reaping." I know that's exactly the kind of thing I need to say to get away from them.

"How sweet."

"Oh, I'm so sorry we kept you waiting."

"No, no, it's fine. I still have time." Then I smile at them and turn into my house. My mother is waiting right by the door.

"We should leave for the square in fifteen minutes, and you're half-naked. What if you get picked? Do you want to embarrass me like that?"

Isn't that just the kind of friendly greeting that you'd look forward to on Reaping Day?

"What? Am I getting fat or something? You know most of the girls there would probably be thrilled if I showed up like this."

Great, I'm getting nervous now too, and it's slipping into my tone. When Rafe is nervous, he acts like a two-year old girl. When I get nervous, I act like a dick. Like father, like son I guess.

"Finnick." Her no-nonsense tone pushes the edge out of my voice.

"Okay, fine. I'll only take a minute."

"I have your clothes set out on your bed for you." I head to my bedroom and throw on the outfit my mother set out for me. Black pants and a black button down shirt. It's like she's dressing me for a funeral.

Twenty minutes later, I'm at the square, signing in my name five minutes late. People are clogging every inch of available space, yet it's dead quiet. It's like the noise has just been sucked out of the place.

I see a few guys I hang out with when Rafe isn't around, so I go and stand by them, but they're too nervous to say anything. I consider trying to find Rafe, but a couple Peacekeepers start snapping at us to get with our age groups. The two girls I were talking to earlier find me and start jabbering about how scared they are, obviously not noticing everyone else is silent. I start patting them on their backs, saying it'll be okay, praying that they'll just shut up. People are staring.

After what seems like just an eternity, our host, Alva Winters steps up to the stage and starts talking about the history of the games. I only half listen, mainly paying attention to the Victors sitting behind her. We have nine living. Five males and four females. I remember seeing most of their games on TV, but they show the old lady's the most. The winner of the 10th Hunger Games, Mags Davis is probably 70 and looks a little washed up, but I know that she's always been known for using her head. I remember her poisoning four tributes by sneaking nightlock berries into their food supplies. I don't think she even directly killed a tribute. She just played it smart and ended up winning.

"Now, Ladies first." Alva's high-pitched voice brings me back to the present. I watch as she reaches inside the girl's ball and snatches up a slip of paper. Then, opening in way more dramatically than is necessary, she reads a name.

"Arowana Silver." Now whispers start as people look through the crowds for the tribute, excitement starting to creep into the air as people see the girl. I strain to see the tribute, finally catching a glimpse of her as she makes her way to the stage. At first, all that I notice is the smirk on her face and the way that she's walking to the stage like this is her victory ceremony. Then she steps onto the stage and I get a real look at her, which makes me realize why she's acting like that. She's my height, at least, and has those long, tight muscles that are as fast as they are strong.

I've seen her at school, but she's a couple years above me. I wouldn't have talked to her anyway. She's poor, I don't think she knows how to speak, and I'm pretty sure that this is the only time I've seen her smile. As you can imagine, she spends a lot of time by herself.

There's the usual cheering and the girl shakes Alva's hand before taking her place on the stage. Then Alva daintily makes her way over to the guy's ball, a smile on her face from the reaction to the first tributes. _Not Rafe_ I find myself thinking. She grabs the paper, unfolds it as slowly as possible, and reads the name.

The girls on my arms start squealing. It's not Rafe. It's me.

I look around, like I'm looking to see if there's another Finnick Odair somewhere. Of course, there isn't.

"Good job Finnick," one of the girls says, like I did something amazing. I barely hear her.

For a second I just stare at Alva in shock. Then she repeats my name and my brain focuses, instantly kicking into gear. I was trained a million times for this moment. My father even taught me how to act if my name was called or if I volunteered. Keep my back straight, put a sly grin on my face, and strut up to the stage. First I think it, then I do it. I strut up to the stage, hopefully looking like a real threat to win the games.

As the crowd starts cheering for me, not going by that whole "Don't judge a book by it's cover" thing, I run through everything I was instructed to do. First, size up the girl from my district, see if she's a threat. If she isn't, I'm supposed to let someone else kill her. If she is, she probably knows me and may know my strengths and weaknesses. Arowana is defiantly a threat. I make up my mind to kill her as soon as I get a good chance.

The mayor starts reading the Treaty of Treason, but I don't pay attention. I'm glancing at the victors, scanning each face, wondering who my mentor will be. Maybe Borglum, the guy who won about fourteen years ago. It seems like he'd have my fighting style. I remember his skill with knives. I'm better with a trident, but I've never seen one in the cornucopia before, so I figure I'd better plan to win with knives or maybe a spear. I'm not bad with those either. Like I mentioned before, my family was training me for this. Now I'm glad they did. I figure working on fishing boats since I was six will help too. There has to be water, and water usually means fish, so I'll hopefully have a consistent food source.

The mayor interrupts my strategizing with a single command. Shake hands. I take a step towards Arowana, and hold my hand out. She takes it, and I squeeze as hard as I can. She does the same thing. I try not to flex my fingers when we let go, but I notice that she does. I allow myself a small smile. She isn't as tough as she looks.

When the Reaping is done, Peacekeepers swarm around me like I'm a threat to make a run for it, then escort me into the Justice Building. I'm taken immediately to an overdone room that looks like it belongs to some snobby rich guy. There's velvet all over, silk tapestries, plush carpet, and ugly as hell paintings that could probably feed some families for a year. Huh. It looks like it belongs to my father.

Speaking of the devil, he's brought in a second later, with my mother trailing behind with Daisy in her arms.

"Well, I wish you could've trained a few more years," are the first words out of my father's mouth. No sadness at knowing that I'm going to get shipped off to fight to the death in a matter of minutes. No fear of losing his only son to the games. Just wishing he would've had a few more years to prepare me for slaughter. Gotta love my wonderful daddy.

"Hey, we'll get a new house out of the deal," I reply. Then my mother's face gets this look, and I brace myself for the crap that's going to spew out of her mouth next.

"Finny…" I cringe at her nickname for me, but she doesn't notice. "I know we've raised you to win these games, but you're barely fourteen. There are going to be kids much older than you out there. I want you to know that your chances aren't as good as you might want them to be. You can't be cocky like that. Your chances of winning are very small, and we don't want you to embarrass us on television by acting invincible and then losing right away."

I can't get too mad at that. At least she wasn't yelling and cussing when she was talking, like she usually does. I mean, telling your son not to embarrass you when he dies isn't that bad, as long as you look like you're actually sad about the whole thing.

"I'm coming home," I say in response. Then I take Daisy in my arms, kiss her forehead, and awkwardly hug both my parents before they leave. I'm not too sad to see them go. My mother is never around, and my father treats me more like an employee than a son. It's Rafe that I'm worried about.

He comes in next. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are tear stains on his face. When I see him totally broken down like that, I worry for the first time. I feel this pain in my chest at knowing that there's a decent chance I won't see him again. I clench my teeth together, telling myself to be tough. The only way that I'll have any chance of winning is if I think like I will win. I need to stay confident.

"Pull yourself together, you aren't going to the arena. I am." I actually sound strong when I say it. Well, sort of.

"But you're going to die," he says. I force a laugh.

"I'm not going to let myself get killed. Trust me. Remember this morning, I said you wouldn't go into the arena. I was right then. I'll be right now." He shakes his head.

"Dude, I don't know how you think you're going to win." I put my hands on his shoulders and actually shake him.

"I'm going to fish Rafe. Except this time I'm catching people. And you have seen me catch fish, right?"

"One of the best," he says, and holds his hand out for a high-five. I slap it, then he turns to leave. At the last second, he stops and turns around.

"What?" I ask. He reaches around his neck and takes his necklace, a black string with a silver trident attached to it, off. In the center of the trident is a small sapphire. It's probably the most expensive thing he owns.

"Take this, to wear as your district token," he says, and hands it to me. I slap him on the back, now working really hard to hold back tears. I know it'd look bad to potential sponsors if I walk out of the building with red eyes, so I take a deep breath to calm myself down.

"I'll bring it back to you," I choke out.

"I'm counting on it," he says, then he leaves me alone. When he shuts the door, I get this horrible thought that it's the last time I'm going to see him. Then I remember that there's no way I'm going to let myself lose, and I keep it together.

After a few minutes, more Peacekeepers come to escort me to a car. I've never actually ridden in a car before, but I've seen a couple of Victors driving them around. In any of the Districts, you basically get around on foot. Again, everything is too soft, so high tech that I almost want to despise it just because it reminds me of my father. I will admit that it is fast, and the windows are dark, so no one can ogle at the tributes. I almost rather would've walked, though. Arowana looks at me like she thinks I'm some kind of worm.

"Not used to being in the shadow of greatness?" I ask her. Remember what I said about nervousness making me an ass?

"Just wondering how your head could fit through the car door," she mumbles. I flip her off, and she lunges at me. I hold my hands up in surrender, knowing that fighting between tributes it illegal before the Games. They don't want to hurt their wonderful merchandise.

"Holy shit, calm down," I say hurriedly. She stops herself, just a few inches away from me. Her face is maybe a foot from mine, and I tip my face up even more, so that we're nose to nose. If I wanted to, I could kiss her. Seeing as I like having all of my teeth, I don't.

"Scared?" she asks me, raising an eyebrow. I roll my eyes.

"Nah, I just want you to save it for the arena." She rolls her eyes, but relaxes back into her seat.

We arrive at the train station immediately afterwards, but that doesn't mean the cameras and reporters haven't had sufficient time to set up. They're everywhere, their huge insect-like cameras trained on my face. Now I'm glad I hadn't cried. It'd be embarrassing, especially since Arowana looks almost happy.

We have to wait a while to let the cameras get enough pictures of us, especially of me. I've always known I looked better than most people, but I never thought much of it before. My family hasn't even acknowledged it, and the girls that have followed me since I was ten tend to be more annoying than anything. But now, with the cameras eating me up, I know that my appearance is going to be a big deal in these games. The good looking tributes always get the most sponsors. If I can play it right, I'll have this thing won before I even step into the arena. All I need to do is to get the audience on my side.

Once the cameras have had enough, we're loaded on a fancy high speed train and start speeding off towards the Capitol. It probably won't even take a day since the train is so fast, but I find myself wishing the train was slower. Is it too much to ask for another day?

Yes, in the Capitol's eyes it is. They provide the tributes with the fastest form of transportation possible, so the Games aren't delayed.

On the train, a Capitol servant leads me to my own private chamber, which also feels like some place my father would stay in. I get my own private bathroom, drawers full of clothes, and a huge bed, piled with fluffy pillows. All of it is too expensive, too soft, too unreal. Most of my house is like that too, with the exception of my bedroom. I always had the walls plastered with posters, things scattered everywhere, just because it made it feel like it belonged to me, when my father assured that I felt as if everything else was his. Right now, this room feels nothing like mine at all. It has Capitol written all over it, and I feel like I'm invading their space.

I force myself to let go of the feeling. I'll have to get used to it, because I'm guessing that the room I'll be staying in all week isn't going to be any different. I suppress a sigh, thinking about that. In a day, I'll be in the Capitol. In less than a week, I'll be fighting for my life in an arena filled with other teenagers, trying to kill me. I let my imagination go wild, then, thinking about everything that could happen in that arena.

I see myself die a hundred different ways, but perhaps the most haunting is in my last vision. There's just me and Mags left, and all I have to do is finish her off and I win. But when I start eating blueberries from my pack, suddenly the berries turn black and Mags appears, laughing hysterically right before the nightlock kills me. I'm not in very good shape by the time Alva knocks on the door.

I quickly splash cool water on my face before I follow her through the narrow hallway into the dining room. Arowana is already at the table, laughing with Borglum. The only other victor here is Mags. And after Alva sits, the only open seat is beside her. I try to remember that she wasn't always an old lady, that she was smart, but I still don't want her as my mentor, which it really looks like at the moment.

No one talks through the entire meal. I spend most of my time scarfing down food, trying to add some extra weight before I get into the arena. Well, and because it's the best food I'd ever had. Thick soups, perfectly cooked birds in decadent sauces, and rich cakes for dessert. I'd always assumed I ate well, better than most of my district, but there's an enormous difference between having a decent amount of old fish and having as many decadent dishes as I like. I eat until I feel like I'm going to throw up, then I force down a couple more bites.

When we're done, Alva takes us to another compartment to watch the other reapings. I pay attention to each one carefully, picking out who I'll want as allies, the ones I have to pay attention to, and the weaklings who I won't have to worry about. Immediately I realize that I won't be picking any of the tributes as allies. The ones who look strong enough to be of any use to me are also the ones who look like they'll stab me in the back whenever it's convenient, so I settle for watching for the ones that will be the biggest threats to me.

I take note of a fierce-looking boy from district 11, and a small blonde girl from 2 that eagerly jumps up to volunteer, but the one that scares me the most is a huge dark-haired boy named Titus from district 6 that's already eighteen, but looks like he could easily be 25. His eyes are feral, and with his thick muscles and broad shoulders, I'm positive that he is going to be the most lethal killer in the games.

When the Reapings are finished, Alva turns the television off and leaves me alone with Arowana, Mags, and Borglum.

"Get some rest. You're going to need it," Borglum says to me. I look at Arowana, but she doesn't move.

"Finnick," Mags says. I don't want to look like I need an early bedtime, especially since I'm just fourteen, but I do listen. Mags follows me to my room to make sure I actually listen, and I stop her before she leaves.

"You're my mentor?" I ask. She nods. I try not to cringe. I have a seventy year old woman as my mentor. I'm not surprised, but I'm also not happy with the confirmation. How was this worked out? Did she volunteer or something?

"Why you?" I ask. She takes a step back like she wants to get a better look at me. Then she nods to herself, like she was confirming something.

"I can help you the most," she says.

"And how?"

"You'll see." Then she walks away. I watch her for a moment before heading into my room. I _am _extremely tired, and I'm out before my head hits the pillow.

Alva calls me for breakfast early the next morning. Mags is there when I get there, but Arowana and Borglum are gone. I sit across the table from Mags.

"Where are the others?" I ask.

"They're talking about their strategy this morning, which I suggest you two should do as well," Alva pipes before she picks her way back out of the room, having trouble walking in a pair of freakishly high heels. I glance at Mags, but she doesn't look up from her coffee. I'm slightly annoyed at her indifference, but also figure eating would be easier if I don't have to listen to her, so I stack my plate full of food and start digging in.

I'm not halfway done when I feel Mags' eyes on me, so I glance at her. She's staring. I swallow the food in my mouth.

"What?"

"Keep eating," she says. "We'll talk when you are done." I'm a little self-conscious about the way she looks at me, but I do my best to ignore her and shovel down the rest of the meal so we can start talking.

"Okay, I'm done. So what am I supposed to do when I get into the arena? Do you want me to go to the cornucopia or should I take cover? I'm thinking that I should go for some decent weapons, since-" She holds up a hand, so I stop.

"Slow down. You have a lot to go through before you get into the games."

"What?"

"We get to the Capitol in a half hour, we don't have time to strategize now. Tomorrow morning, we'll discuss what you're going to do once you're in the Games. Okay?" I glare at her.

"You said we'd talk."

"I want to tell you about what your prep team is going to do to you."

"What? Die my skin orange?" Mags shoots me a look, and I remind myself to watch my tongue. I don't want her getting mad at me. After all, she's the one who's going to get me sponsors

"They're going to treat you like a dead fish," she says. I open my mouth, but she continues speaking. "Let them."

"What?"

"That is all I have to tell you. Good-bye," she says, then walks out of the room before I can say anything else. I stare at my empty plate, extremely annoyed, but there's nothing I can do about it, so I head back to my room, slamming my door in frustration. How am I supposed to figure anything out if my own mentor won't tell me a thing? I shake my head and plop down on the too big bed.

Since Mags said we make it to the Capitol in a half hour, I try to make a quick mental list of anything that I want to take with me, disappointed with how little there really is. The only things that are mine are the clothes I wore here and Rafe's necklace, which is still around my neck. For some reason that makes me feel lost. I want to see something familiar, something that's mine. I want to go to the ocean, or see my sister's smiling face, or even just to hang out with Rafe again. I've been away from home for less than a day, and already I want to go back.

I grab the necklace in my hand and stare at it, remembering when I met Rafe for the first time. He was 8, I was 6. We were the two youngest people working on the boats. Me, since my father was the supervisor, and Rafe, because his family was in desperate need of money. He'd been working for a few weeks before I came and was in charge of the grunge work- cleaning the boats, gutting the fish, stuff like that. Well, when I went to work on the ship, since I was the supervisor's son, I got the easy jobs. Throwing the net, delivering messages, just little stuff.

One day my dad was sick, and some guy who didn't like me was put in charge. He made me stay back on shore and help Rafe gut fish. I didn't want to, so I just watched him do it. After a while he basically told me to get my ass moving, but I was a spoiled brat and told him he couldn't make me and if he tried I'd make my dad fire him. We got in a fight, and it ended with fish guts all over the both of us and a knife held to my throat. One of the guys came back then, and broke up the fight. After we were cleaned up, we got yelled at real good by the man in charge. He talked to my father, and my punishment was to work with Rafe. Rafe didn't get in trouble, since apparently I started the fight.

At first we hated each other. He didn't talk to me and I mouthed off at him, but then something happened. One day one of my friends walked by the harbor and saw me working at the docks. He was from a rich family too, but his family didn't make him work, so he figured I must not be as good as him since I had to. He called me names and taunting me, and I started crying. So Rafe runs over there and socks this kid in the face. Then he calms me down and finishes all my work for me. When he's done, he takes me down to the ocean and we swim the rest of the afternoon. After that, he sort of took on the role of my bodyguard until I got better at defending myself than he was. But we were already best friends by then.

I sit down on my bed and sigh. God, what I'd give to have Rafe for a bodyguard again. That's the first time that I really feel scared of what's going to happen, and I start crying. I don't try to hold back the tears that are now flowing down my cheeks. I probably couldn't anyway.


	2. God of the Seas

A/N- Thank you for the reviews and everything, I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the story.

* * *

I've pulled myself together by the time Alva taps on my bedroom door and announces that we are entering the Capitol, but I'm still pretty miserable. When Mags comes and insists that I look at the Capitol, I barely resist declining the invitation. When I get to the window though, I'm glad I didn't.

The city is even more beautiful than the images I've seen on TV. The buildings reach towards the sky seeming to touch the clouds. Brightly colored cars are everywhere, zooming down wide paved streets. People with skin dyed in a ridiculous array of colors stop and stare when they see a tribute train go past, their eyes lighting up like they're getting a present. I look out and smile, blowing kisses to all of the girls, remembering that I'm going to need sponsors. It doesn't feel quite right, but it has to be done if I want to give myself the best chance possible to win these Games.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, I'm in the remake center, getting introduced to my prep team, Cesario and Hermia. My stylist isn't here yet. According to Cesario, he doesn't want to see me until I look human, which I'm praying does not mean dyed yellow with vibrant orange hair and tattoos all over my face, which happens to be his particular style. Hermia is better. Other than her bright green hair and eyes, she's almost normal. Her skin is its rightful color, and her face has no other modifications that I can see. Maybe that's why I feel so much more comfortable around her than Cesario, who reminds me of an exotic animal.

"Okay, as soon as you strip down, we can get started," Hermia pipes in her slightly annoying Capitol accent. I grudgingly take off my clothes, and both of them start looking me over like I'm a piece of meat, Cesario even going so far as to poke and prod my muscles. I grit my teeth and run Mags' words through my head like a mantra. I may not be happy with her, but I know that she's probably right. Not listening to these people isn't going to do me any favors.

"Ooh, he's going to be something special," Cesario croons.

"I've never seen anything like him," Hermia agrees. "I can't wait to see what Silvia will do to him." They croon over me for five minutes before they even start doing anything. At first, I'm relieved when Hermia says they need to get started because listening to their voices is annoying. Then I figure out what they have in store for me.

Hermia covers me in a gritty foam and scrubs it off with at least my top layer of skin. Cesario chops off most of my shoulder-length hair, then rubs smelly goop through the stuff that's left, making it slightly curly. After that, they both do my nails, filing them down and working to get every bit of dirt out, while whining about the horrible condition my hands are in. Meaning, they don't like the calluses and scars. Both of them start going off about how I should've been careful not to work my hands that hard, like I knew I was going to the Games, or like I'd have I choice even if had known. I force myself to keep my mouth shut.

When my nails are done, they go to work on my face, scrubbing it down with stuff that's supposed to prevent me from growing facial hair, then plucking any stray hairs from around my eyebrows and commenting on how now that all the dirt is gone, I'm the best looking tribute they've ever seen.

"Thank you," I tell them, trying to sound like I mean it.

"Oh, it is our pleasure," Cesario says, smiling himself stupid. I attempt to smile back, but can't quite manage it. I can't stop thinking that this is the equivalent of preparing a dessert for an important meal. You get it to look as nice as possible even though your intent is to destroy it.

"We can get Silvia now," Hermia says, giving me another proud look. Then her and Cesario dash off, looking like a couple of kids running to get their mother. I stand there, not sure if I should sit down or just wait. I decide to sit, but a woman I'm guessing is Silvia enters just a minute later.

She's tall and graceful, with eyes that look like liquid silver and curly black hair. Her eyelids and cheeks are covered in glitter that sparkles when she turns her head, but other than the glitter, her eyes, and some simple makeup, she doesn't have any major alterations.

"I'm Silvia," she says, and holds her hand out to me. I shake it gingerly.

"Finnick," I say. She nods, then motions for me to stand up. I'd been able to put a robe on when my prep team was working on me, but Silvia makes me take it off right away.

"This is going to be perfect," she whispers to herself as she looks me over.

Immediately she sets to work, covering my face with makeup, shadowing my features in a way that she confides should make me looks years older, while also making my green eyes look more prominent. When the makeup is on, she puts a light coat of gold power on my cheeks, then leaves the room for a minute. She comes back with a garment bag.

"Is that what I'm wearing for the ceremonies tonight?" I ask her.

"Yes, and you are going to be all anyone in the districts talk about afterwards." I notice her Capitol accent isn't quite as thick as the Hermia's is, but it's slightly more annoying just because her voice is naturally higher.

"That's a good thing, right?" I ask. She laughs, surprisingly sweetly, almost like bells ringing.

"Yes, a very good thing."

She has me close my eyes as she puts the outfit on me, and I try to piece together what she's doing. The one obvious thing is that there isn't much to it. The only thing she has me put on is a pair of skintight pants that end a few inches above my feet. I feel her set something, maybe a cape, on my shoulders, and then that's it. She tells me to open my eyes.

It's perfect. I look like some kind of Sea God. My face, which already had near perfect features, now literally looks like it belongs on the statue of a god. The pants she gave me are made out of green and blue fish scales. The makeup that she put on me does make me look older, not to mention that it makes my eyes seem to almost glow. They're impossible not to look it, and even I find myself having to tear my gaze away to appreciate the rest of the costume. My tall, well-muscled build and sun-bronzed skin add to the appearance of being a god, making me look not just strong, but invincible. At that moment, I feel like winning the Hunger Games would be easy, a minor accomplishment. The cape, which looks like it's made out of seaweed, adds the finishing touch.

"This is perfect," I tell Silvia. But she shakes her head.

"Not quite." She snaps her fingers, and Hermia dashes in carrying a box, wearing this huge grin on her face. As soon as Silvia takes the box from her hands, she runs over and hugs me, squealing in delight about how perfect I am, then hurries out of the room. For a second I'm a little freaked out, but I forget about it as soon as Silvia opens the box and pulls out what was inside- a golden crown, encrusted with emeralds and sapphires. She sets it on my head and smiles. "Now, it's perfect."

And I have to agree. Because I don't just look like The King of the Sea. I feel like I am. And for the first time, I am absolutely positive that these games are mine, and even after they are long over, no one is going to forget Finnick Odair.

Silvia takes me to the bottom level of the Remake Center, where all the other tributes are waiting by their chariots, standing there stiffly, nervously. Even the ones that I marked as dangerous are now nervous kids again, but I don't feel the same way. I feel invincible, and the other tributes know it. I see the ones I pass look at me with a mixture of awe and jealousy. I smile back at all of them, causing them to all look away. A couple of the girls blush, and my heart stirs with something when I see how nervous I can make them with just a smile.

"So, when I'm on this chariot, am I supposed to be waving and smiling, or acting above everything?" I ask Silvia. My father told me to stare straight ahead, act like I don't care about the Capitol, but I figure I'd rather have her advice than his. She glances at me.

"Be cool, confident, relaxed. Like you've already won and this is the victory parade. But don't be stuck up about it. You're the golden boy in these games. It'd hurt your image if people saw you as a jerk." So she's basically telling me to do anything except what my father told me. Nice.

"Okay, I think I get what you're saying."

"Just do your best," she pipes in her sing-song voice. We stop in front of our chariot, which is painted the color of the ocean, with beautiful white horses in front of it. Arowana and her stylist are standing on the other side of it. Or, at least I think it's Arowana. When I get closer, I have to do a double-take, positive that some other tribute is standing there. It is her, though, and I actually ogle for a second.

Her long blonde hair is laced with strands of seaweed and has fake starfish clipped into it. Blue glitter lights up her face, and her eyes, which I assumed to be gray, are now very obviously blue. And her body… God I can't believe she would hide it. Every one of her curves is revealed in the tight blue unitard they have her in, which is made of the same material as my pants. I try not to stare, but I can't help it.

"Nice outfit," I say, trying to make myself sound sarcastic. I have enough experience that my tone comes out perfectly.

"Go screw yourself Odair," she says. I laugh, a little too loudly, and the other tributes stare. I shrug, like they're stupid for looking, then try to think of something to keep my eyes off of Arowana.

I end up talking to Silvia, managing to keep up a steady conversation with her for a few minutes before she says we have to get into our positions. She helps me into the chariot, then gives me a quick hug before backing up.

Arowana climbs in a second after me, and I scoot as far away from her as the chariot will allow. I realize she's doing the same thing with me. Good. Just because she isn't ugly, as I originally thought, doesn't mean that she isn't my enemy.

The tributes from District 1 ride out in a chariot pulled by horses the same color as ours. They're both dazzling, wearing tunics glittering with jewels. The crowd roars predictably when they see the chariot. Everyone always loves District 1.

District 2 follows closely behind them, then 3 comes up after them, and our horses are moved into position to follow. I take a deep breath, stand up straighter, and then our horses are pulling us into the city.

I give a small smirk when the crowd sees me and starts going nuts. Yelling my name, shouting for District 4. I gesture for them to get louder, and the entire place seems to explode.

Adrenaline starts pumping through my veins. What I felt when I first saw myself in this costume is nothing compared to what I'm feeling now. I forget that I'm just days away from being sent to fight for my life. Right now, I'm enjoying this as much as the crowd is.

All the screaming makes me bold, and I want to do something big, but I remember Silvia telling me to act cool and relaxed. I force myself to settle for keeping my smirk on my face. It's hard not to smile bigger, but I think I'll make more of an impact if I don't look like I'm happy about them cheering. No, I have to look like I know something they don't know. Like I have secrets that all the people of the Capitol are just dying to figure out. The people eat it up.

"Will you marry me?" I hear someone shout. I blow a kiss in the general direction and any girl within a hundred feet of it starts shrieking.

* * *

By the time we reach the City Circle, I'm positive that every female in the Capitol is in love with me, and that Mags is going to have so many people lining up to sponsor me that she'd be able to buy me a hovercraft if I wanted.

The twelve chariots end up right in front of President Snow's mansion before we stop. The president goes through his official speech, and I make sure to bow my head respectfully and listen, to suck up to any big Capitol people. I do notice on the big screen, however, that whenever the cameras cut away from the president, they seem to focus on me an awful lot. A couple times Arowana isn't even in the picture, and I can't help but thinking that really isn't fair. I know she isn't near perfect like I am, but she's better than most of the other tributes, at least enough to split time with me. Without taking my eyes off the president, I move close enough towards her that our arms almost touch, so the cameras would have to get both of us. I actually brace myself for her to push me, or hit me or something, but she doesn't even seem to notice.

When the president is done with his speech, the chariots takes one more lap around the circle, and then we head back to the Remake Center.

When we get there, I'm shown my room for the first time. It's basically a bigger version of my room in the train, just with more gadgets to mess with. I don't have time to touch much though, because as soon as I've rinsed off all my makeup in the shower, Alva calls me to dinner.

Silvia, and Arowana's stylist, Carina, are there too tonight, so there's a little bit more conversation. Alva goes on and on about how great we are, Carina and Silvia compliment each other, and Borglum actually starts telling stories about his Games. By the time we're done, I'm laughing and totally relaxed.

We watch the recap of the ceremonies quickly, and it's obvious that District 4 was the favorite group. I can see why too. Most of the other tributes were standing there stiffly, looking either nervous or conceited. I managed to look like I was born to ride on a chariot through the Capitol, and Arowana, who I hadn't paid much attention to during the ride, showed no nervousness whatsoever. We were perfect.

"You managed to not totally ruin it for me, good job," I tell Arowana when they're done.

"Remember what I told you before the parade?" she asks.

"Yeah?"

"Well, you better get busy." I throw a pillow at her, then leave. I _was _trying to compliment her….sort of. Whatever, I don't focus on that for long anyway.

We start training early tomorrow, so I head straight to my room, hoping to get some sleep. At first my blood is still pumping from the opening ceremonies, but when all the cheering people are gone and, when the makeup is washed from my face and I look fourteen again, I settle down fast. For just a moment I feel the weight of the Games threaten to suffocate me, but I fall into a deep, peaceful sleep before my bravado takes too big of a hit.


	3. Not Just a Game

Mags is waiting for me at the breakfast table the next morning, sipping a cup of coffee. This time though, she starts yapping the second that I sit down.

"I have a rule that I've gone by the last fifty four years and it's served me well. You listen to me, and I'll do my best to get you back to District 4. If not, I'm not going to feel bad when you die in the arena."

"I'll listen." She cocks her head.

"I'm not sure you will. Tell me Finnick, and answer truthfully, what do you think your chances are of winning these games?" It feels like a trick question, and I'm tempted to answer something humble and modest, but she did say to be honest.

"I'm going to win," I answer. I can immediately see that I've failed the test she was giving me.

"Some confidence is good. Too much will get you killed. When I was just a little older than you, I was the same way coming into my Games; way too full of myself, way too sure I was going to win. It was a miracle I wasn't killed the first day. After a week I was ready to kill myself if it meant getting out of the arena."

"You're saying I need to think that I have no chance of winning?" I ask doubtfully. That doesn't seem right. Back at school, our wrestling coach always said that we should be sure we're going to win, otherwise we won't have the confidence to win.

"No, I'm saying that you shouldn't think that victory will be handed to you on a silver platter. There are tributes going into that arena that are four years older than you, and they want nothing more than to see you dead. You look like a Career, but no amount of training can turn a fourteen year old boy into the kind of person it takes to win the games. You're going to have to learn quickly once you get into the arena, and if you're sure you don't need to change anything, you aren't going to. I want you to realize right now that if you come out of these games alive, it's going to be as a much different person than the one standing in front of me."

I chew on that for a second, trying to put what she said in more simple terms.

"So, I'm supposed to stay confident that I can win, but realize that I have a long ways to go before I get there." She smiles a mostly toothless smile.

"Exactly." And I really do think that I get what she means, even if it scares the hell out of me. The other tributes are going to show no mercy, so I can't either. I'm going to have to become the kind of person that slits throats with no questions asked, that'd stab you with a knife as soon as you turn around. I'm going to have to become like the tributes that I was too scared of to even consider making alliances with. I'd never really thought of that before, and now that I do, my confidence wavers.

I'd have a decent chance of winning if all I needed was skill and athleticism. But add that one component, the ruthlessness that you need, and right now I wouldn't stand a chance. Because I know that I've always been a rich pretty boy. Even if I had to work hard from a young age, I've never had things real tough. Rafe took care of my dirty work for me whenever something that had the potential to get messy did come up, which only happened once or twice. I've stabbed dummies a million times, but it will be no good if I can't get myself to stab a real person.

"How Mags?" I ask. She gives me a sad look.

"We play your cards right until you get into the arena, and then pray that there's some insanity behind your perfect looks. Now, what weapons would you say you're best with?" Not what I was looking for, but there really isn't much she can do, not anything that'll really help me. I'll just to have do what she says and pray that sending a spear through some guy's heart is really no different from killing a dummy.

"A trident," I answer without hesitation. I remember telling Rafe that I'll just fish for people. Maybe killing would be easier if I had the same weapon I use on the fish. I hate to think about that, but I'm going to have to start. Seriously, if I can't think about stabbing someone, how am I going to actually do it?

"Anything else?" We talk weapons a little bit longer, then I tire of thinking about killing people, and that'll be on my mind enough the next couple of days anyway, so I change the subject.

"When you said I have to play my cards right until I get into the arena, what did you have in mind?" She seems to be at least as grateful for the subject change as I am.

"I want you to be appear to be the Capitol's golden boy every second that you are in public. Keep a smile on your face. Joke with the other tributes, especially if they look like they're going to kill you. Flirt with the girls. Be as likeable as possible." Wow. Sounds like school.

"That isn't going to be hard at all. Anything else?"

"Yes. Have you been trained for these games?" I open my mouth to brag, but then I remember what she said, and keep my voice neutral.

"Yeah, since I could walk."

"Don't let it show. When you go out there, act like you think you're amazing at every station, then perform like you barely know what you're doing. Don't act like a fool, but make it look like you're relying entirely on natural talent. So that you'll be under the radar, but no one will be surprised if you get lucky and manage a high training score."

"Okay, I got this." And before she says anything else, Alva comes and whisks me off to the training room with Arowana right behind us. I have to look back at Arowana several times, just because she's glaring holes in my back. I hope that she hasn't gotten a hand on a knife or something, because she looks ready to kill me.

A tall, muscular woman named Atala describes all of the stations to us, but I'm not really listening. Instead, I'm picking out my victims of the day. The girls I'm going to flirt with, and the guys that I'm going to bug.

My first thought is that it'd be fun to mess with Titus, but when I look at him, I know that I don't have the guts to. The girl from two though, she's cute. I can flirt with her. I pick a couple of other subjects, then move on to deciding where I should take my talents. Maybe I should go to the stations of the things I'm best at and mess up there, so that the other tributes won't be expecting me to use them. That seems smart. Just as I'm deciding to go to the spears right away, Atala finishes up.

Before I head off though, I walk over to the girl from 2. If I remember right her name is Kyra.

"It's Kyra, right?" I ask. She turns around sharply like she didn't hear me coming, her body language defensive. Then she really sees me, and I have to smile at the way I see her relax. I guess I don't blame her. I mean, how couldn't you totally love my face?

"What do you care?" she says, trying to sound annoyed, but not succeeding. I take a small step towards her so that we're almost touching.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to go throw spears with me. I'm willing to pass some of my knowledge onto you, because if I lose, I want you to win." I whisper the words in her ear, my lips brushing against her skin. She shivers a little bit, but takes a step back, putting a hand on her hip like she knows something's up.

"Wouldn't you want the girl from your district to win?" I wave off that suggestion.

"I want the victor to be beautiful, someone that represents the districts well. Arowana would disgrace District 4." The girl actually blushes when I call her beautiful, but I can tell she didn't want to. She doesn't want to trust me, but I can already see that there's not a thing she can do about it.

"What makes you think that I need to learn how to throw a spear?" she asks. I flash a cocky smile.

"I'll find something to teach you."

"So is the spear your best weapon?" she asks. I raise my eyebrows.

"I've never had a chance to use a spear. Why would I need one in District 4?" I use my most innocent voice. She rolls her eyes.

"If you don't know how to use a spear, what could you teach me?" I look at the ground and fidget a like I'm comfortable.

"Well, I was actually just trying to get you to come with me," I mumble, looking at the floor and running a hand through my hair. She stares for a second, then swallows hard.

"We'll be trying to kill each other in three days," she says, but her resolve is faltering. I see it break entirely when I look up and her eyes get caught in mine.

"Well, we might as well make the most of that time then, don't you agree?" Without another word she grabs my arm and drags me over to the spear throwing station. I start blabbing about how easy it looks, even making fun of the big guy from eleven when he misses. When the trainer tries to explain to me how to throw a spear, I tell him it isn't that hard, then when it's my turn to throw, I throw mechanics down the drain. The throw isn't horrible, but it misses the dummy by a few inches. I turn to Kyra, who's looking at me like I'm stupid.

"Don't worry Angel, my next throw will be better," I say. She smiles when I call her Angel, then nods, gesturing for me to try again. This time I knick the dummy's head, but it's obvious it wouldn't have done any real damage. I pretend not to realize this and pump my fist.

The rest of that day and the start of the next day go by exactly the same way. I mainly drag Kyra around with me, but flirt with other girls when she's not looking. I even give Arowana a couple mischievous smiles, but all those earn me are dirty looks. As for my work with the guys, I have successfully gotten myself thrown into the useless tributes column with my blown up ego and inconsistent talent. I'll let myself get a couple of good sticks with a knife, or beat my opponent at the wrestling station, then I'll miss once or make a wrong move and let myself appear to get more and more frustrated until I'm doing just plain horrible.

This doesn't mean that I'm not actually learning anything, though. I pay close attention at the edible plants station that Kyra drags me to, and go to a camouflage one on my own. I even let myself show up a girl from 9 that seems to appear whenever Kyra is out of sight. It's just knot tying, and I figure it wouldn't be very realistic if a guy from 4 couldn't tie knots, so I don't downplay my skill at all there. Not exactly impressive, but the trainer seems thrilled with it. The girl gets frustrated and leaves, then trips and falls when I blow a kiss in her direction.

Then when I'm eating lunch on the second day, alone since Kyra is eating with the career pack, Arowana sits down beside me.

"That spot's taken," I tell her. She doesn't move a muscle.

"Why aren't you sitting with them?" she asks, and jerks her head towards the career pack. I guess I am a career, so I could be, but I didn't think it was that unusual for me not to be. I'm not teaming up with any of them, so it wouldn't be right if I went over there and just started acting all buddy-buddy. Besides, I think all of the guys hate me, and all of the girls are unsuccessfully trying to make themselves hate me. I'd get eaten alive if I sat there.

"Why aren't you?" I toss back. A small smile crosses her lips.

"I don't trust them."

"Neither do I." We're both quiet for a while, so my brain has a few minutes to figure out the obvious. I don't trust any of the people in the career pack. Everyone else seems useless. Well, except for Titus, who hasn't even spoken to the careers since training started, and no way am I pairing up with him. But there is one person that I left out of the entire equation.

"We should team up," I say. She looks up from her food, her eyes immediately distrustful.

"Why?"

"We'll do better together. If it gets down to six tributes, we'll split up so we don't have to kill each other."

"How do I know you won't stab me in the back?"

"I'm a man of my word," I say.

"Man," she says sarcastically. "What are you, twelve?" I throw a carrot at her, actually getting her to crack a smile.

"Now I'm thinking of retracting that offer. For that comment, I may just enjoy stalking you at night, making you worried to close your eyes."

"I'm so scared," she says with a roll of her eyes.

"So, are we allies?" I ask, taking in her smile.

"Yes," she says without hesitation.

"Are we going to finish training together?" I ask her.

"I don't care, but it looks like you have a nice plan laid out, and I'm not going to interrupt it," she says. Damn, I totally forgot about that. But she's right, it'd be dumb to just ditch that now.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. But next time we're alone in our quarters, I want to work out a strategy or something." Just then we're called back to training. We both stand up, and she holds her hand out to me.

"Deal?"

"Deal." I say. We shake on it. Throughout the rest of that day, I play back that conversation in my head a million times, trying to figure out how in the hell that happened. I mean, we're going to end up killing each other, I know it. She's crazy, and I hate her. This can't turn out well. It's too late to change my mind, though, and we would do better together. I let it go.

We share our idea with Mags and Borglum at supper that night. They look surprised, but both agree that it would be best. They ask a million questions the rest of the meal, but neither Arowana or I know the answer since we haven't talked any further about the alliance. We finally do get a chance to talk alone after we're done eating, though. I take her to the room where we watched the recap of the opening ceremonies. She takes a seat on the couch and I plop down on the other half. It's immediately obvious that she didn't have that in mind, but I don't move. If she isn't comfortable with me being so close, she has to get used to it if we're going to be allies.

"So, what are you thinking our first move should be?" I ask her.

"Take down the career pack," she replies without a second of thought. And she's right. Once they're gone, all we have to do is pick off the weaklings. Well, and take out Titus.

"Okay, that makes sense, but how." She shakes her head.

"We aren't going to be able to decide that yet. We have to see what weapons we get first, and see what the arena is like." Great, now I feel stupid. That's sort of obvious.

"Oh yeah, huh. Well, are we going to the cornucopia right away, or do you want to run off to the woods?"

"I want weapons. There's no way we'll win if we run away from confrontation. But don't stick around to try to take it over. Grab what weapons you want, then run. We'll meet up afterwards, if we both make it out." That's as far as our strategizing goes. We try to figure a couple more things out, but we can't make too many preparations since we have no idea what the arena is going to be like. Eventually we just fall into quiet. After a while, Arowana starts to get up and leave.

"Wait," I say. Suddenly I don't want her to go. I don't want to be alone again.

"What?"

"Is there anything else you want to talk about? Something that isn't the Hunger Games." She eases herself back onto the couch.

"Yeah, that'd be a nice change from the last few days."

"I never really paid attention to you back in District 4. What was your family like?" She goes on to tell me about how her father died when she was just a baby, and how her older brother worked to help her mother until she remarried. She doesn't say much about her stepfather, but it's obvious she's close to her stepsister, Annie, who's two years younger than me now. She goes on and on about the girl, talking about how no one swims like her, and telling hilarious stories about her. She actually starts crying a little bit, but quickly wipes her tears away.

"I am going to miss her," she says, her voice strong again, "But I am thrilled to be here. Aaron's married now with a daughter, and his family is barely scraping by, so I'd help him first, but my life isn't the greatest either. And I know that Annie deserves better. If I come home, I can give it to her. I'm just worried about what will happen if I can't."

And there's something about the look in her eyes that makes it nearly impossible not to reach out and comfort her.

"If you don't make it home," I tell her softly, "I promise you that I will, and I will help your family when I get back." She looks up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time.

"Thank you," she whispers, and the words radiate with sincerity. I put a hand tentatively on her arm.

"If your family is anything like you, they deserve it." _Kiss her. _My entire body aches to, but my brain knows how stupid that'd be. I've already let myself get too attached. So even though I can tell that she wants to as much as I do, I immediately get up.

"We have an early day tomorrow," I tell her. Then I rush off to my room and go to bed.


	4. Countdown

Arowana and I both act like nothing is different the next day at training. We both avoid each other, and I keep playing my games with the minds of the tributes until lunch. That's when the Gamemakers start calling us in for our private sessions. Arowana sits by me again.

"What are you going to do?" I ask her. She shrugs, not seeming too concerned about it.

"Maybe throw some knives or something. You?" I remember seeing the tridents they had in the game room, despite the fact that there are never any in the arena. I'd avoided them like the plague during training, since it'd be hard not to notice how natural it is to me to handle one, no matter how clumsily I'd try to act. But now, I know that I can get an extremely good score if I use one to show the Gamemakers what I can do.

"A trident," I say.

"You've been fishing a very long time," she says, sounding like she just remembered that.

"Since I was six." Then it's my turn to go. She wishes me luck, and I nervously head into the room.

Trying not to look at the Gamemakers' intimidating faces, I walk over to the tridents and grab one. It's nicer than the ones they make in Four. It feels like it's made out of actual silver, and I swing it a couple of times to get used to the feel of it. Then, once I'm pretty sure I'm good to go, I proceed to mow through the dummies, using ridiculously show-offy moves that would get me killed if I tried them in an actual fight. They make me look good, though, and I can tell that the Gamemakers are interested. I go for a long time before they're satisfied and tell me I can leave.

That night we check out the other tribute's scores. The tributes from one and two all got predictably high scores, the ones from three average. Arowana gets an eight, and I toss her a smile. She looks away, but it's better than her usual glare. I guess that's progress.

Then my score comes up. An eleven. The third in Hunger Games history. Everyone smiles and pats me on the back. Even Titus just gets a ten. I'm thrilled. and even though I'm not going to forget what Mags said and think this is going to be easy, by no means am I thinking that I don't have a good shot to pull out of them alive.

Even though our training is considered over the next day, it is by no means really finished. We're done learning about combat, but now, our escorts and mentors prepare us for the interviews tomorrow. They try to teach manners that twenty three of the tributes will need to know for just one night. Since I've been watching the games, I thought that it was a stupid way to make the tributes spend one of their last days, but now going through it, I despise it even more. All I can think about is where I'm going to be in two days, and how there's so much I want to see before I go into the Games. I can't see any of it, though, and that kills me.

First, I'm sent off to a private room with Alva. She has me go through every simple movement I could possibly make, things that I've known how to do since I was born, and then tells me that they aren't right. She spends an entire hour getting me to walk with my shoulders more relaxed and making sure I sit with my back straighter. Then she goes through my facial expressions, especially the ones I'll be most likely to use in the interviews. Based on my previous appearances, she works a lot on mysterious, charming, and bored. She's not sure what Mags wants me to do, but she's thinking it'll tie in with that theme, which is fine for me. I probably will be bored, I have to try not to be charming, and I _am_ a mystery to the people of the Capitol-the beautiful 14 year old boy from District 4 that seems to fear nothing.

When Alva is done with me, I go to Mags to work on my interview.

"So, what do you got for me?" I ask when I enter the room where she's sitting.

"I want you to try to keep the attitude you've been working on in the training center. There are just a few things I want to tweak."

"So…"

"Flirt with the girls of the Capitol. Keep your swagger."

"But…"

"You're going to be asked about your past. They aren't going to be interested in a rich kid working on a boat. Elude around most of it. Don't mention anything big. Make them want to know your secrets."

"Okay." That isn't going to be that difficult. I've practiced handling girls the last two years, I don't have to fake the swagger, and I wasn't planning on letting the Capitol know anything about my private life anyway. It scares me, though, knowing how easily I fit into a role that's meant solely to please the Capitol. Looks are part of it, but a part of me worries that maybe I'm more like the people here than I should be.

That thought eats away at my mind all that morning, and I'm completely drained of any energy at all by the time lunch rolls around. I'm about to go off to my room after I'm done eating, but Arowana grabs my arm and drags me into hers.

"You helped me out yesterday. Now it's your turn to tell me what's wrong."

"It's none of your business." I tell her, tearing my arm free from her grasp.

"No one expects you to be perfect," she tells me. I stop.

"Yeah, maybe not you, but I know a hell of a lot of people who think differently."

"Well, I don't care. I already think you're a piece of crap, so it's not like anything you told me could make my opinion of you any worse."

"That's nice to hear," I mumble, getting ready to leave again.

"Finnick, just tell me, or I'm killing you the second we set foot in that arena."

"Wow, I never knew how much you cared." She ignores me, instead simply walking over to her bed and sitting down. For just a moment, I actually think I'll be able to leave. Then I change my mind and go and sit by her, telling her about how I'm the prototype of a what a tribute should be, perfect by the standards of the Capitol. When I'm done, she laughs. I start to get up and leave, but she's fast and grabs my arm, pulling me back down.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. But Finnick, just because you fit what people in the Capitol want to see doesn't mean anything bad. I'm starting to get to know you, and you aren't anything like the people in the Capitol. Sure, you're full of yourself and maybe you do string some girls along, but you're better than anyone in the Capitol could hope to be." I look up at her in surprise.

"Why would you say that?"

"What you did for my sister, for one thing. But more than that, it's because you have a backbone. I have never seen you afraid of anything, not even the Games. You're stronger than anyone in the Capitol could even imagine."

I turn my face and look into her stormy blue eyes.

"I am scared of the Games. Maybe not like I should be, but I am scared."

"If you weren't scared at all you wouldn't be human. What I meant is that you're still thinking clearly. I haven't heard you have any nightmares at all." She's right of course. I'm not as scared as most of the tributes. I want to know what that has to do with me being a good person, but then I realize what she's saying. There may be good people in the Capitol. They just don't speak out against what they know is wrong because they're too scared of the consequences. That's one of the things that makes them so despicable.

"Thank you," I tell her. She smiles up at me.

"Now we're even. I don't like owing people."

"Yeah, now we're even." Then I leave.

My prep team wakes me up nice and early the next day, washing me and getting me ready for Silvia. When they're finished, they hurry out of the room to get her, and she comes in moments later, a garment back slung over her shoulder. Instead of wearing costumes like we did last time, now we're simply expected to be in formal wear that reflects our district. Silvia simply incorporates a lot of blue into my black suit. It's nothing special, but when I comment, she says that with my face, it doesn't need to be.

The interviews start in what seems like no time. Then, before I really have time to prepare myself, Caesar Flickerman calls my name and I have to walk up to the stage. For the first time in my life, I am nervous, but then the crowd goes crazy and I remember the opening ceremonies and how much they love me. I could nosedive off the stage and they'd probably like it.

"So Finnick, called into the games at age fourteen. That must have been a shock." I shrug my shoulders, letting a small smile play on the corners of my lips.

"Sure it was. I was planning on waiting until I was eighteen to volunteer, but at least now I'll get to move into my new house a few years earlier." The crowd just totally eats that up.

"Well, you're confident that you can win." My smile gets bigger.

"There is nothing to fear but fear itself."

"That is very true, and you seem to live by those words. Since you've come to the Capitol, is there anytime you've really been afraid?"

"No," I lie. "The closest I've come to it was just now, talking in front of all these people, but everyone in the Capitol is just so amazingly supportive that I realized there was nothing to be nervous about." More cheers from the audience. Caesar smiles.

"So I take it you've like the Capitol so far?"

"Very much. The food is excellent. The girls are beautiful," I can hear sighs coming from the crowd, "and of course this is the time of year to be here."

"Why do you say that? Is it the weather?" I smile.

"No, but look at all these festivities. And all for me too." A few more laughs.

"You're such a thankful guest. How can anyone not like you? But you've given us enough praise. The one thing that the entire audience is dying to know is more about it you, and I bet the question on everyone's mind is "Do you have a girlfriend back home?" I laugh, letting my smile get bigger.

"There's probably a few girls who'll be mad at me if I say I don't." I cover up my mouth like I just said something stupid and the audience laughs. "I mean, yes, one specific girlfriend that I love very, very much." For some reason I think of Arowana. That's dumb.

"Ouch. You're going to have some trouble if you get back to District 4."

"_When_," I correct him, "I get back, I'll have plenty of time to sort it all out. For now, I'm focusing on nothing but these Games." Then my timer dings and I have to sit down, but the crowd doesn't stop cheering for a very long time.

Too soon the interviews are done, and I'm taken back to the remake center. The reality that I'll be in the arena in just hours starts creeping up on me. I try to calm myself down by remembering that I won't be alone in there, that Arowana is going to be with me, but that provides little comfort. I remember what Mags said, about how she doesn't think I'm a real killer. Tomorrow, I'm going to have to prove her wrong.

I sleep very little that night. Sometimes I manage to shut my brain down for two hours at a time, but then I just wake up for another hour. When Silvia comes in that morning, I've managed maybe four or five hours of sleep.

I'm taken onto a hovercraft, where they inject a tracker into my arm. Then I get driven to the arena and led into the catacombs underneath. I've heard people call it the stockyard, the place where animals go to get ready for slaughter. I can't help but think that's really a very accurate description, then I make myself start thinking about other things. Mostly that in just a little while, I'll be with Arowana and the Games would've started, and that maybe once it starts it won't be so bad.

Silvia is silent as she dresses me in the clothes that every tribute will have to wear. At first I don't pay much attention to them, then she makes a quick comment on how the clothing usually reflects what your surroundings will be. I immediately take notice of the insulated black coat and boots and my heart sinks. Then I notice that other than that, the thin blue tunics and black leggings they give us are made for warm weather. My brain is still trying to figure it out when they announce it's time to prepare for launch. I take a deep breath to calm myself, Silvia gives me a quick hug and wishes me luck, and then I step onto the metal platform and am lifted into the arena.


	5. Just Like the Dummies

Author's note- Okay, now that we're in the arena, hopefully this will be more exciting. Thank you so much for the amazing reviews, I really do appreciate it. Please keep it up.

Disclaimer- I do not own The Hunger Games.

* * *

The arena is nothing like what I was expecting. The tributes are all standing in the middle of an eerily beautiful meadow, complete with a rainbow of flowers and the soft notes of birds chirping. Puffy white clouds dot the sky and sun glints off of the golden cornucopia and the plethora of supplies that lie in its mouth. I hear the quiet bubbling of a stream somewhere behind me.

It's so beautiful that it's nearly disorienting, but I manage to keep my attention focused on the cornucopia. The second that the gong clangs, signaling the start of the Games, I dart off of my platform in a dead sprint for the cornucopia. While I'm halfway there, most of the other tributes are just starting to run. I do a quick search through the supplies, grab a couple large packs, some knives, and a spear, then take off for the edge of the forest that surrounds the meadow.

Maybe it's a little bit low, but I get myself perched high in a tree before I even think about looking for Arowana. This is the Hunger Games, though, and I'm not going to try to help her until I know that I'm safe. A second later, I realize that she's taking care of things pretty well herself. I find her slashing away tributes with a golden sword, a bow already slung over her shoulder. She slices through one tribute's stomach before spinning and catching another one on the thigh. Then she dashes to the forest, low to the ground, her eyes darting around to check if another tribute is chasing her. No one wants to touch her, not after seeing her slashing through those tributes.

"Let's get going," she shouts up at me, still running full speed. I jump in surprise because I was sure that I was better concealed than that, but she's already past me, so I take off after her without any questions.

Arowana won't even hear about stopping until we're at least two miles away from the cornucopia. I can tell she still thinks it's too close, but my back is aching from all of the stuff I have to carry, and I'm drenched in sweat from wearing the insulated coat.

"This is just a break," she says when I dump my bags and lean back against a tree.

"No, I want to camp near here. If we get too far away, the Gamemakers will decide to pick us off themselves, but they usually leave the tributes along as long as they stay close to the action."

"What are we going to do when the Career pack goes hunting?" she asks. I'm not sure if I'm already in the spirit of the Games, or maybe it's just because I'd sort of had this planned since I was chosen, but I already have the answer to that question.

"We make them regret it."

My amazing plan is to make some sort of net out of vines, use one of us as bait by making a fire under a tree, preferably with wet grass, and sleeping beside it while the other stands guard in a tree. The Careers see the smoke, go rushing in for the kill, and the one in the tree simply drops the net, trapping the other tributes so that the one on the ground can kill them. It's like catching fish, exactly what I told Rafe.

"That's dumb enough that it just might work," she says, and I know that I can't expect much more of a compliment from her, so I'm happy with that.

"Okay, let's get started," I say, totally hyped up to really kick off these games. Only that doesn't happen, not yet.

"Um, genius, we should probably take care of a few other things first," Arowana says. She directs me to go through the packs while she searches for shelter for us. I suggest climbing a tree, but the white clouds have started darkening and thunder sounds in the distance, signaling that lighting is most likely going to follow, and neither of us wants to the Gamemakers to strike the tree we're sleeping in. The next option is a cave, but after a quick search of the immediate area, Arowana can't even find a rock.

"I can't think of anywhere else," I admit, looking up from the things that I pulled out of the bag. A sleeping bag that keeps looking nicer and nicer as the temperature starts to plummet, a pair of thick gloves, some dried fruit, a first aid kit, matches, a few more knives, a bottle of iodine, and some really nice binoculars.

"You stole half the stuff in the cornucopia and yet you couldn't manage to grab a tent," she grumbles, rummaging through my pile like she'll find her answers in our supplies. When it's obvious that there's nothing there, she stomps off to search again. I get to work shoving all of our crap back in their bags, leaving out just a small amount of dried fruit for us to eat.

Then I wait. And I wait. Ten minutes pass. Twenty. Then an hour. The clouds gradually darken to a pitch black and seem to get lower and lower until it feels like they're shutting me in, or at the very least shutting all of the light out. It's like someone threw a thick wool blanket over the arena. The complete lack of sunlight makes the temperature drop to the point where I'm shivering, and the worry that is gnawing at my gut gets stronger. I'm just about to look for her when the trees behind me start rustling.

I pick up my spear and get ready to throw, even though I couldn't get much force on it from the ground anyway.

"It's me Finnick." I relax when Arowana steps through the trees, obviously unharmed.

"You're okay. What took you so long?" She rolls her eyes.

"Finnick, I was gone just over an hour. You're overreacting." I want to groan, knowing she's right. It was just an hour and I was on the verge of a heart attack. How stupid can I get, letting myself get so attached to a girl that I've known for just a couple of days, even after I knew she was going to have to die for me to live? Besides, her opinion of me probably ranks somewhere between moldy sardines and gutting eels.

"You didn't tell me you were going to be out that long," I say somewhat defensively, like that explains how worried I was.

"God, you sound like my mother. I'm fine, as you can see, even though I still haven't found anyplace for you to stay. If you've gotten all your things ready, we should look somewhere else."

We search for another two hours without any luck. The charcoal colored clouds don't change much, but the weather intensifies, erasing even the memory of the innocent white clouds that were present just hours ago. Thunder crashes constantly, sheets of lightning seem to set the sky on fire, and a light mist hangs in the air.

"Maybe we should just climb a tree and hope the lightning doesn't kill us," Arowana mumbles after a while. I open my mouth to answer her when I hear the bubbling of the stream.

"Do you hear that?" I ask her.

"Water? Well, I guess I'm getting thirsty, but how's that going to help us find shelter?" She's right. I don't know why I'm so excited by the prospect of water. We haven't had any all day, but it's been cool so we haven't sweated much either.

"We will need water, and maybe we'll find something by the stream," I say, trying to sound convincing. Since it can't be any worse than what we've been doing, we make our way towards the gurgling stream.

I'm somewhat disappointed when I see it. It's nothing like the beautiful oceans of home. It's just a shallow little rivulet that can't be more than four feet deep.

Then Arowana grabs my arm and points, and I look across the stream, forgetting all about home. Because now I'm looking at a row of jagged mountains. Beautiful mountains dotted with pine trees and splotched with snow. They're pretty low, but the thing that I notice immediately is all the crags and crevices. Perfect for hiding in.

"There has to be a cave somewhere over there," Arowana says, her thoughts directly in line with mine. She wades through the waist deep water without hesitation. I'm about to follow her when I notice a flash of movement behind me. Without even thinking, I whip around and fire my spear into the stomach of a boy emerging from the trees, a sword in his hands. No doubt he was going to kill me, but that doesn't do anything to the small pang that seems to radiate through my chest when he makes this horrible noise and falls to the ground.

I rush to slit his throat to make sure he's dead, but I feel numb when I do it. There's a boy, a human being, just lying there dead, because of me.

"Finnick, come on," Arowana snaps. I just shake my head, staring at the boy. That's when I notice his sword again, and the fog lifts off my brain and I can think again. I did what I had to survive because there's no doubt in my mind that he would've used that sword on me as fast as I used my spear on him. I glance at him one more time, then move away so that the hovercraft can take the body of my first kill.

I know that somewhere, he had family and friends that were praying he was going to come home, and I just destroyed whatever hope they had. But I have a two year old sister that probably won't even remember me if I die. I have a best friend that's like a brother to me who will kill me if I go soft. And now I know about a girl named Annie and a poor family back in 4 that needs one of the tributes from here to come home if they're going to live a real life.

That's when I know exactly what Mags meant when she said I'd have to change to win, because I can feel it happen in that one second. This fierce determination overpowers me, fueled by nothing but the desire to live. Not just for myself, but for my District, for my family. Even if it means wiping out every single one of the tributes single handedly. I look back at Arowana. Well, maybe not all of the tributes. But I'm not planning on dying so she can go home either. This is going to be my Games, and nothing or no one is going to stop me.

"You okay?" she asks after I make my way through the stream. I meet her gaze.

"It's not as hard as you think, knowing that you took someone's life. The only thing I feel bad about is how little time it took for me to stop caring."

"You aren't heartless Finnick. You're just a survivor." Something about the way she says that makes me sound a lot better than I really am. I like that. It makes it sound like I'm a decent person, even after what I just did.

"Yeah, I know." Then we trek into the mountains, climbing over the cool rocks and walking over the parts that are flat enough. Neither of us say a single word. It's safer that way, anyway, even if it maybe is a little awkward. Neither of us want to be found, especially since we'd be such easy targets on the steep rocks.

Eventually we find a nice little cave that's pretty well hidden. I toss my bags in there, then we sit side by side, watching the lightning and nibbling on bits of dried fruit. Both of our nerves are on edge, and neither of us can stop looking around, listening, waiting for something or someone that will kill us. Again, we say nothing, and I can't help but start fidgeting. I can't stand it when people aren't relaxed around me, it's just a thing that I have. I want to talk, to make her laugh, but that isn't exactly appropriate for the Hunger Games, is it?

Finally, the anthem plays and the faces of the dead flash through the sky. The first face they show is the girl from three, so both the tributes from one and two are alive. Then there's both from five, the girl from six, the boy from seven, both from eight and nine, and the girl from eleven. I recognize the boy I killed as the one from five. For the first time, I take notice of the pale gray color of his eyes. They already looked like they belonged on a ghost. Strangely, that helps me relax.

Arowana volunteers to take the first watch, but the second I lay down I know I'll never fall asleep. Not only do those stupid gray eyes appear the second I close my own, but even after I open my eyes, I half expect to see the boy's ghost, leaning over me with a knife. There's nothing of course, except Arowana leaning against the mouth of the cave with her bow. Seeing that bow, I can't help but think of how easily it'd be for her to turn around and fire that thing in my temple while I sleep. I remember the way she talked about Annie, how much she wants to get home because of her. Then I think about how I'm standing in the way of that goal.

Within fifteen minutes I'm too riled up even to lay down, so I get up and offer to take guard for Arowana.

"Why?" she asks, eyeing the spear in my hand.

"Because I'm going to kill you in your sleep," I tell her sarcastically.

"You're a little-" I hold up my hand.

"I can't sleep, okay?" I say. She sighs, but does agree, making me promise to wake her in three hours. Then she disappears into the cave. I hold my second spear in my hand, since I left the first one in the boy's stomach.

I go through what I expect to be my three hours quickly, but those three hours haven't erased my fear of Arowana, or the slight tinge of paranoia I feel from killing that boy, so I just stay up the whole night.

Nothing happens anyway, not really. The only somewhat interesting thing is watching the black clouds break up to reveal beautiful stars and a bright golden moon. I actually want to wake up Arowana to show her, but then I know I'd just have to convince her not to tear my arms off for not waking her up earlier. I know that's an inevitable event, but procrastinating never hurt anyone.

Eventually, though, the sun rises and the birds start singing again, and I know that I'm going to have to wake up Arowana up soon, or she's going to wake up herself.

I gingerly shake her awake. "Hey, it's morning," I whisper. She jerks awake, looks around, then locks gazes with me.

"What the hell?" she snaps. "I told you three hours."

"I lost track of time," I tell her, holding my hands up innocently.

"You lost track of time, my ass. What is wrong with you? Don't you trust me?" I swallow.

"Yes," I kind of lie. "It's just…. You don't need to put yourself in danger for me."

"I _can_ take care of myself," she growls.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I guess I just didn't want anything to happen to you." That is true, even if it wasn't what was on my mind last night. Now that I say it, though, I know that I don't want anything to happen to her. I don't want to wake up one morning and find her dead.

"You're playing games with me Finnick Odair. I know you, and there's something up."

"Why would you think that?" I don't know what I expect her to say next, but it defiantly isn't what she says.

"I know you. You're an asshole. You didn't speak a single word to me until I sat down by you at lunch that day, probably because you were too busy flirting with other girls. Then you ask me to be your ally and start cuddling up to me and making crazy promises that you won't keep, and now you're saying that you really care if I live or die. The Finnick Odair from District 4 would've used his little sister for a human shield."

That's when she crosses the line and I sock her in the face. She flinches back, obviously not ready for it, and I have my knife at her throat before she has a chance to recover. She refuses to look me in the eye.

"I should kill you right now," I hiss.

"Do it," she says. I manage to catch her eye then, and I see the very real fear there, accompanied by hurt. She didn't know me, and I'm sure I do come across as a jerk to most girls. Saying that about my sister was out of line, but how is she expected to know how much I really love that kid? The only reason that she said anything at all was because she thought I was playing with her head, which I guess I do do with most girls, and the only reason that that'd really hurt her would be if she likes me.

She closes her eyes and braces herself for the knife, but even though I try to slit her throat, I really do try, I can't kill her now, not yet and not this unfairly. Especially not after seeing the hurt in her eyes. No, I don't want to kill her. I want to do something else. So I tuck my knife into my belt and instead of slitting her throat, I kiss her.

Her eyes fly open and she jumps backwards like I shocked her.

"I'm not playing games," I tell her. She shakes her head.

"You may fool the people of the Capitol, but you aren't going to fool me."

"Then why are you blushing?" That, of course, makes her blush even deeper. She tries to stammer different excuses before she lets out her breath in a whoosh of air.

"Just because I think you're sort of good looking doesn't mean I trust you." Sort of? That has to be a first.

"Oh come on. The one girl that doesn't annoy the hell out of me is also the first girl that's acted this unreasonably."

"Maybe that's because I have a functioning brain."

"No, you're just scared of falling for me as hard as everyone else in Panem." She stares straight at me, then, her piercing blue eyes not letting me move a single inch.

"Finnick, at least one of us is going to die," she says. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"I know, you have no idea how obvious that is to me."

"Then stop being an idiot. We have things to do, and this is a waste of time." So I shut my mouth and force myself to think about what she said, about how one of us is going to be dead in just days. Unless I like her enough to die for her, she is going to die soon, and even now I know that there is no way I would sacrifice my life for hers. I like her, but nowhere near that much. I need to start letting go of her, and now.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm thirsty and the Gamemakers are probably going to get bored soon anyway. We should start that net that I was going to make, pump some action into these games."

"Yeah, whatever," she says, so we start on our way down the mountain and back to the forest.

Neither of us are in a good mood from what just happened, which drives me nuts. The tension between us is nearly tangible and she always keeps ten to twenty feet ahead of me. Remember what I said about not liking being around people who are tense? Yeah, Arowana is the definition of that right now, and after just a few minutes of this I'm considering turning myself in to the Career pack.

My resolve to act mad breaks pretty quickly.

"You know, being mad at me isn't going to accomplish anything," I try. She says nothing.

"I'm not that bad, seriously. I won't try kissing you again if you just talk to me."

"Shut up," she says. I try a couple more times, but eventually I settle for singing softly under my breath. I can sense her glaring back at me a couple times, but I pretend not to notice.

We walk a mile or so into the forest without seeing anything except for a few birds, so I don't expect anything much when Arowana freezes.

"What is it?" I ask.

"The guy from twelve just got a girl with a knife. They're in the trees, just a few yards away. We have to get out of here before he hears us." She hisses her words, obviously eager to leave. What happened to girl who was mowing down tributes at the Cornucopia?

My next words come out of my mouth without a conscious thought from me. "I'm not running." This is the Hunger Games, and I'm not going to survive if I run from a kill when it's so close. And also, even though it's horrible to think like this, I also want to mow down as many tributes as possible so it'll get down to six tributes and I can get rid of Arowana as soon as possible. It's too hard, worrying about her killing me and growing on me at the same time. If at least eleven tributes are already gone, the boy will make it twelve. Then I'll only have to live with Arowana for six more. I'm going to kill this kid.

"Finnick-"

"Just stay here." Without waiting to see what her reply is, I quietly make my way over to the direction where Arowana is looking, until I see a boy about twenty feet away looking over a small girl's body for supplies. I can't throw my spear from here since there are so many trees in the way, but since the only weapon I see on the boy is a knife, I allow myself to creep closer.

My plan doesn't turn out like I want it to because he hears me before I have the chance to sneak up on him. In an instant the boy is turned around, staring at the tree I'm hiding behind. He takes a step closer to the tree, his long knife raised up, ready to kill. In one quick, sudden movement I launch myself around the tree so that I'm behind him, but he's turned around before I can raise my knife. Instead of having my knife over his throat, his knife is pointed at _my_ face. Drawing from all the times I've trained for situations almost exactly like this, I don't attempt any kind of escape, no cool fighting moves. Before I even process the fact that I'm in a hopeless situation, I thrust my knife into his stomach with no hesitation. Now that my body is just going through it's old routine, I instinctively take his knife from his limp fingers and slit his throat to finish him off.

I instantly think about how after my talk with Mags, I wondered how much different stabbing a dummy is than a real person. I know the answer now. There's no difference at all.

Well, there is the slightest pain of regret when I look at him. His eyes are the same blue as the sky, and it's obvious he was one of the youngest tributes, probably my age. His face is so innocent in death that it just seems wrong that I killed him.

Then I remember that he killed that girl. He would've killed me. I had to kill him. For myself. For Daisy. For Rafe. I'm not a monster. I'm not doing anything wrong. And just like that, any regret I feel disappears.

I take his knife, still covered in the girl's blood, and look for anything else useful on him. The only thing he's carrying is a mace, but I leave that alone. Even the Hunger Games can't make me kill someone that viciously.

I walk back over to where I left Arowana, and she's leaning back against a tree, her bow ready to shoot if anyone comes her way.

"I got him. You ready to make that trap now?" If I can take out those four careers, victory would be all but mine.

"Yeah. It's about time we make these games exciting."


	6. It's Time to Fish

A/N- This is probably going to be my last update before Christmas, so Merry Christmas everyone! I'll hopefully get another chapter up by 2011, but just incase I'll wish everyone a happy New Year as well. Thank you for reading.

* * *

Arowana comes up with the idea of taking the vines I collected back to the cave to weave the net, so now I'm leaning back against the cool rock and watching the hummingbirds zooming around in the bright sun outside as I manipulate the vines into a deadly trap. She stares at the golden sword she found at the cornucopia, turning it over in her hands.

"Do you care?" she asks all of the sudden.

"About what?"

"Those two people you killed." I look up from the net, but my fingers keep working.

"No," I answer honestly. "I did at first, with both of them, but just for a second."

"How'd you make it stop?"

"All I have to do is think that if they live, I'll die. Then I realize it's necessary and I'm fine." I realize that I sound extremely callous. Again, I have to remind myself not to care what Arowana thinks.

"But what about their families? Don't you think about them?"

"If I die, my family would be going through the same thing as theirs are right now. I'd rather have their families feel it than mine."

"I guess that makes sense," she mumbles, but it's obvious she doesn't feel better.

"You're not happy about the people you killed at the cornucopia," I say. It isn't a question. It's obvious what she's thinking.

"I hate myself for it. Finnick, when I killed those people, I didn't even think about them. Not until today, when I saw that boy and realized I could kill him so easily just by firing an arrow. But then I thought about it, and I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"Well, you better learn quick," I tell her because I know it'll stop the conversation. Right now killing those two boys doesn't bother me, but I don't exactly want to talk about murder like casual conversation. Especially when there's a chance that Arowana will say something that makes me find something wrong with the deaths I convinced myself were so right.

My net is done twenty minutes later.

"Do you want to camp out tonight and use this, or wait until tomorrow?"

"The Careers usually hunt at night," she says hollowly, her mind obviously still on the lives she took.

"Then we'll set out after the anthem," I say. By the position of the sun I'd say it's probably just past one, so we have at least eight hours before we'll need to set out.

Arowana isn't in the mood to talk, and I haven't slept since I got in the arena, so I lay back to take a nap. I don't worry about Arowana killing me now, since her mindset is obviously so shaky. With that fear gone, and the haunting eyes of my first kill expelled from my mind, sleep comes very quickly.

It doesn't stay long though. Even when I'm asleep, my brain knows I'm still in the Games. I dream about Titus finding our little cave and taking out Arowana with a mace before coming for me. Except he doesn't use the mace. He takes a knife and cuts away every single one of my fingers. Then he starts hacking away at my feet. In real life, the pain would have caused me to black out, but in the dream, I swear that I can feel it as he hacks away my limbs until there's nothing left. I jolt up screaming.

"Finnick, it's okay," Arowana hisses. She's probably trying to sound comforting, but the edge in her voice reminds me that if anyone heard that they'd be rushing over here to take us out.

"Yeah I know. I'm sorry. Just a bad dream." I look at my hands and flex my fingers. That felt so real. So unbelievably real.

"Sometimes that can be worse than the real thing," she says.

"Tell me about it." I get off the ground and stretch my stiff muscles. "What time do you think it is?"

"Around five or six. We've got a few hours."

"How about some food?" she asks. Then she steps out of the way and reveals a small meal. A real meal. This huge thick juicy slab of steak, a bowl filled with brightly colored raspberries and blueberries, and a basket full of rolls. A gallon container of water sets in the middle.

"Where did this come from?" I ask, just gaping at everything she'd laid out.

"Your sponsors were worried about how little you've eaten. They thought it was because you didn't like the arena food." I stare at the entire meal they had sent for us. No, that they sent for me. Even though there's easily enough for two, it's obviously intended for one, with only a single plate, and only one set of utensils.

"I hadn't even thought about eating," I admit. If I had, I would've taken stuff out of my pack. I had plenty of dried fruit to eat. But I didn't need to eat. I've been in here a day and a half. I've gone without food for longer than that on some of my longer fishing trips. Sure I'm a little hungry, but not enough for my sponsors to waste so much money on me. It could've been used for something more valuable. If I got sick and need medicine or something, they probably won't have enough money anymore. What was Mags thinking?

"Well, you'll think about it now," she says. I sigh and walk over to where the food is setting. It does smell really good.

"I don't see any harm in eating this stuff. You want some?"

"Duh," she says, and I find myself cracking a small smile. Then we both sit down and dig in to food that tastes like it's directly from the Capitol.

"This is why I'm your ally," Arowana says in between bites. "You're probably getting sponsored by every female in Panem." I know that's true, and even though I find it creepy that grown woman are probably drooling over

me right now, I can't say that I'm complaining at this particular moment.

When we finish eating, we go over our plan again and again. Before we do anything, I'll scout ahead and look for the Career's camp, which is probably near water. When I find them I grab Arowana, and we make a fire a couple hundred yards away. She'll pretend to be asleep by the fire, and I'll perch in the tree above her with the net. When the Careers come, there will be two options. If all of them rush up to get her, I'll throw the net on them. If only one comes up, I'm planning on just throwing the spear at them and going from there. Either way, at least some Careers will die tonight.

When we're finished drawing up our plans, I set to work preparing to go on my surveillance mission.

"Maybe we should wait until tomorrow," Arowana comments, looking at the dark clouds that are again forming outside. I shake my head.

"They hardly did anything last night. I'll be fine."

"But that could change. What if the Gamemakers are getting bored?"

"They'll see our plan and let us finish it because it has to much potential. Nothing is going to happen." I glance at the clouds outside and can't say that I'm as sure as I sound. But I really do doubt that anything is going to happen to me. They like me too much to kill me in such an anticlimactic way, right?

"If I'm not back by tomorrow morning, I'm dead and you need to start planning on winning this thing yourself. Okay?" I have to say it, just because I'm really not sure what the clouds will bring.

"Finnick-"

"Just promise me," I tell her. "Promise me that you'll kill if you need to, that you'll do anything to get back if I die."

"I can't," she says softly, unable to look me in the eye.

"What about your family? Do you want them to die because you're too scared to kill someone?"

"No."

"Then promise me you'll do whatever it takes to get back to them."

"I promise," she says weakly.

"And if you do get back, swear to me that you'll keep an eye on my sister."

"I swear I will. But Finnick, you aren't going to die."

"This is the Hunger Games. No one can know that, and I have to be sure you aren't going to ruin this for our district if I do."

"I won't."

Then I leave the cave without even a second glance at her. I don't look back because of how much I want to. Maybe acting like I don't care if I see her again will help me when I really won't see her again.

The rain starts right after I leave. At first it's just a sprinkle, but then it starts falling in sheets that soak me to the bone and keep me from seeing more than five or ten feet ahead of me. Oh well. I've fished in this before. It isn't that bad.

Then the thunder and lightning start up again. _It's just like last night. _I have to remind myself that over and over. But it isn't just like last night. The thunder seems louder, the lightning brighter, and the rain is defiantly harder. Not to mention that I could walk right into one of the Career's backs before I notice them.

After just a mile I realize this is a waste of my time and start to turn back, but when I get to the stream my heart sinks. The gentle flow that it had yesterday has transformed into a raging current that would pull me under if I attempted to get across. I'm going to have to stay in the forest until the rain stops, then hope I can find some way across after that. I pray that it doesn't last too long, since I'll supposedly be dead if I don't get back by morning. I'm pretty sure that I start crying in frustration, but the rain is so thick that even I can't tell.

Since I have no way of getting back to the cave, I decide to attempt to find somewhere where I can at least stay dry. I stick close to the trees, dashing from tree trunk to tree trunk as quietly as I can. Every muscle in my body is on edge, waiting for Titus to appear in front of me and start cutting off my limbs, or maybe Kyra to come after me with the spears she threw so expertly at training. Not only am I basically blind, but the pouring rain and crashing thunder make me deaf as well.

Then it all just goes away. The thunder and lightning go away first. A couple minutes later the rain weakens into a light shower, then nothing at all.

I'm so relived that it takes me a while to notice the quiet. I'm not sure, but shouldn't at least some animals be moving around? There isn't a single sound except for the rushing stream. No birds. No animals. Just silence.

And now that I notice that, I pick out other things that aren't right even though the storm appears to have ended. The almost greenish tint that everything has taken on. The humidity. How there's absolutely no wind at all. This is wrong. My skin crawls and I have this gut feeling that something terrible is going to happen.

I try to sprint back to my cave, even though there's no way for me to get back to it. Even if I could, I'm miles away and much, much too slow.

The second I hear powerful rumbling sound I know exactly what's happening before I even see the tornado. We've never gotten one in District 4, but I remember learning about them in school. Just a page, a long time ago, but now every single word is coming back to me. _Deadly storm. Winds up to 300 miles per hour. Rips trees out of the ground. _

My fear reaches a new level when I turn around and actually see the thing. An enormous spiraling column of dirt and debris maybe two miles away, moving fast and picking up everything in it's path. I close my eyes and will it away, but I can't help but think that it isn't going anywhere.

It does go away though. Obviously. They aren't going to kill everyone in the arena. Just a few. Give the others a warning. I'm not dead. It didn't get within a mile of me. The Gamemakers will handle the other tributes later. This is only the second day, it can't end yet.

I know that my job was to find the Careers and that I haven't done that yet, but I'm too rattled to even think about that now so I walk up and down the angry stream, trying to find a way across. My brain is foggy though, and I'm soaking wet and my clothes seem to weight a ton. To make things worse the Gamemakers decided to send the temperature plummeting after that tornado, so instead of just being wet, I'm freezing cold.

My mind draws from a memory of when one of my crewmates fell into the water on one of our fishing trips. They got his clothes off him as quickly as possible. I know that's what I should be doing, but all I can think about is how cold that'd make me. No, I'll get back to the cave and curl up in the nice warm sleeping bag. But I can't. I don't know how.

"Someone help me, damn it," I shout, again on the verge of tears. God, when did I become such a wimp. I start pacing again, muttering every swear word I've ever heard under my breath. The parachute hits me in the head. I grab it and greedily open it, praying for new clothes, for something warm. I get a rope. A… holy crap I'm stupid. I didn't even need the rope, I could've just used a vine but I wasn't thinking straight.

I tie the end into loop and after a couple of tries manage to get it looped around the branch of a tree across the stream. Then I swing, praying that my arms, which feel like noodles, are going to be able to hold on. They do, and I crash into the bank. For a second I just lay there, so relived that I'm across and really too lazy to get up, but then I realize that I'm losing feeling in my toes so I force myself to get up and make my way to the cave in a haze, crashing over rocks and throwing myself onto ledges with very little control over my numb body.

The last thing that I remember is getting to the ledge where the cave is and crawling maybe five feet before I black out.


	7. The Reality of the Games

I'm so warm that I swear I died and went to hell. All I can think is that now that I'm dead that I should have just died right away, before I killed anyone so that hell wasn't necessary. Because it is hot, and my entire body is screaming in pain. Then my eyes focus and I notice the rocky ceiling of the cave and I know that I didn't die, that I'm not in hell. I'm in the arena, and I'm not really sure if I'm relieved or disappointed.

"Arowana," I try to get out, but my throat feels huge and is so full of crap that I can't even understand myself. I attempt to sit up, but my stomach churns and I'm so weak that I end up lying back down.

"You're awake," she says then, with so much relief in her voice that it makes me try to laugh, but all that I get out is a painful, raspy cough.

"Unfortunately," I say.

"You sound horrible. I prayed that you weren't going to get sick, but that didn't turn out too well I guess. Your feet were already so bad, now there's this." I remember how cold I was, how I couldn't feel anything.

"My feet," I croak.

"They were purple," she says softly. "But don't worry, your sponsors sent me some stuff that fixed them right up." How many sponsors do I have?

"That's good," I say. I try to sound like I mean it, but my voice doesn't make it sound real convincing even though I am sincere.

"How sick are you?" she asks me, putting a hand on my forehead. The look she gets then terrifies me.

"I'm fine. Just a cold, I'll be up and better in just-" A coughing fit seizes me and it feels like I'm going to end up spitting out my lungs.

"It sounds like you have pneumonia," she states.

"It isn't that bad," I argue, but my throat is on fire and I doubt she can hear me.

"Untreated, this will kill you. Do you want me to kill you now, or are you going to try to fight it?" I think of Daisy and force myself to sit up. I'm going to say something about how there's no way some stupid illness is going to kill me, but then I notice the nice little parachute floating to the ground outside. The bright sun makes a beautiful background, actually.

"Kill me now if you want to-" I have to take a break and cough. "But if you would please, I have a parachute outside." She rolls her eyes, letting herself smile, just a little.

"How did I know that'd happen?" Then she gets up and grabs it, snatching a box off of the end. Inside the box is a syringe with this huge needle sticking out of it.

"I hate needles," I notify her when she gets ready to stick it in my arm.

"Just close your eyes and you won't notice a thing."

"I'd rather die," I cough out, and then she presses down and the thing goes into my arm and I let out a small cry of pain when I feel it pierce the skin. And God, does it go deep.

"It's done," she says after what feels like forever. The thing didn't look that big.

"It didn't do anything," I say. I cough right after that to emphasize that point.

"Give it time. I'll take the first watch and you get more sleep."

"Wait. First tell me how many are left. Who died in the tornado?"

"There are nine left. I'm not sure who, but none of the Careers died."

"Titus?" I start coughing again afterwards and she waits patiently to tell me the answer.

"He's still alive." Then she walks away to take watch and I lay my head back down. I fall asleep so quickly that I wonder if I shouldn't start getting shots just so I don't lay awake all night.

I start to panic the next time I wake up. My stomach doesn't hurt anymore, and my breathing is fine, but my fever is flaring out of the control. I try to get out of the sleeping bag when I realize I'm already lying naked on top of it. Beside me there's a basket woven from leaves and filled with water. I chug at least a quart as soon as see it.

"What's wrong with me?" I ask in my normal voice to no one in particular. When I sit up, I notice that Arowana is gone. Panic sets in and I get up, then rush to the mouth of the cave. She's sitting right outside though, weaving another basket. Her face is red and sweat is beading around her forehead, so I'm guessing the Gamemakers just decided to ramp up the temperature and I'm not dying of a fever. I relax a little. That medicine really did make me better then.

"Did you ask what was wrong with you? I could really have fun answering that question."

"Oh shut up," I grumble. She looks up from her work.

"Get dressed, I found the Careers when you were passed out. Now we just have to finish your plan." I blush just a little when I remember that I'm naked. Not because Arowana is there, that's fine with me. What isn't fine is that I'm probably on national tv right now, and there are most likely women twice my age having fun with this scene. I hustle to quickly put some clothes on, even though it's hot enough that I really don't want to. After I'm dressed we grab all of our things and set out. Both of us realize that once this mission is done we'll be forced to split up. We won't be going back to the cave.

That realization keeps us silent, along with the extreme heat. Just climbing down the steaming mountain is difficult. I'm dying to grab water from the stream, but then I realize that it's basically gone. Just a small muddy trickle runs across the bottom, and that's too filthy to drink. Both of us splash our faces, though. Not only is it cool, but the mud also protects us from the hot sun.

When Arowana thinks we're close to where she last saw the Careers, she has me climb a tree to see for sure. I grab the binoculars from my pack and climb as high as I can on an old oak tree before the branches start threatening to break. Then I put the binoculars to my eyes and search.

They're surprisingly high-powered, and I can see anything within a mile or so radius. I scan the area for any tributes, but the trees are so thick in most places that I don't see much. But Arowana said the Careers were in a clearing, so I should be able to see them. I look through the small gaps in the trees, searching for people. When I find a big guy and Kyra, I start to say I found them. Then I zoom in and notice the guy is Titus, and that he's holding the biggest knife I've ever seen.

I can't look away as I watch him cut off Kyra's head. My stomach churning, I do a quick sweep of the area with my binoculars, waiting for the other Careers to come rushing in to kill the brute and give away their location, but they don't. I get a decent view of Titus one more time, then start to zoom out. I stop almost instantly though.

I beg myself to just look away. All I have to do is put the binoculars down and I won't have to watch. But I'm transfixed. I can't move. And I'm forced to see something that I know will haunt me until the day that I day. Titus doesn't step away from Kyra's body to let the hovercraft take her away. He doesn't search for supplies he could use. He cuts her open with his knife and sticks his hand in to yank out her heart.

My arms start shaking and I'm afraid I'll fall out of the tree, but I'm not that lucky. Instead I watch him sink his teeth into it. Take a bite off of it. Eat it. I regain control of my body and basically fall to the ground. Arowana is by my side in a second.

"What was the cannon for?" she asks.

"Kyra died," I say in a shaky voice. I have to throw up. I'm going to throw up. But I didn't eat yesterday, so there's nothing in my stomach. Arowana watches silently as my entire body shakes with painful dry heaves. When those finally stop, she walks over to me and silently hands me the bag of dried fruit. I get down a couple pieces before putting it back in my pack.

"What was that about?"

"I watched her get beheaded," I say simply.

"It'll be okay," she tells me softly. I shake my head because I know that until Titus dies, it will never be okay. From the first time I saw him at his Reaping, I could tell that he was crazy. I just never imagined….

"I didn't see any of the Careers, but they'll probably be around where Kyra was. We should get-." I see the boy from District 1 in the trees before he sees us, but he reacts far too quickly and my warning isn't fast enough. The second he catches a glimpse of Arowana, a knife is out of his hands and through her back. My spear is stuck in his chest just as quickly. I look around for more of them, wait for them to come for me, but now it's obvious that their pack has split up. That's the reason why no one helped Kyra, and the reason why no one is helping this boy.

Or at least I hope it is, because I only wait for a millisecond before I fly to Arowana and kneel beside her. Her face is ghostly white and contorted with pain, but she's still alive.

"I'll save you. I just have to beg and my sponsors will get something to help you."

"It's too late," she whispers. Tears start running down my cheeks even though I knew this would happen sometime. I just didn't think it'd be like this. That I'd have to see. That I'd have to be here.

"No, it's not. Please don't give up." I pray for a parachute even though I know none will come. The people of the Capitol wouldn't spend that kind of money, not on her at least. My hand finds hers and she grabs it as tightly as she did on the Reaping that first day. But now, instead of scaring me away, she's using me as an anchor. The thoughts of that makes my grip tighten, as if I can keep her alive simply by holding on.

"Win this for me. Please." she chokes out so quietly that I can hardly hear her.

"I will, I swear," I tell her.

"And my family. Don't forget your promise."

"I'll take care of your family."

"Finnick," she mouths. Then she's gone. I kiss her lips softly and close her eyes. Then, giving her one last look, I get and up start to walk away with a dull ache in my heart. I don't get two steps before I notice the sun gleaming off a silver parachute. "_Too late," _I think. Then it falls a little further, and I get a good look at it. It isn't for her. It's for me. And with it, I will be nearly unstoppable.

A gleaming silver trident.


	8. Victory

I take the net, my trident, and Arowana's sword before I leave her body. It feels wrong walking away from her, and if I get home I'm going to be able to really mourn, but now I know that I don't have time to mope around, and the tears stop as soon as she's out of sight. The pain in my chest gives way to the determination to fulfill my promise and win these Games for her and her family.

For the first time since I set foot in the arena, I really am a part of these Hunger Games. Before, there was always some little piece of me that was holding back, dreading the moment when I'd have to leave Arowana, or hoping that it wouldn't be me that was faced with the task of killing her. Now that she's gone and I don't have to think about those things anymore, I throw myself into the Games.

I pay attention to every movement, every minute sound when I walk, searching furiously for the remaining tributes. My hands grip my trident in anticipation of the first kill I'll make with it, and my mind is already reconstructing the plan to catch the Careers now that they've broken up. No, not just the Careers. There are very few tributes remaining, and anyone who's survived this long is as much of a threat to me as any Career could be. Especially Titus. I want to kill him more than any other tribute in this arena because it isn't right for him to live. Yet, I don't want to seek him out like I do the other remaining tributes. If he's the one that kills me... No, I'm going to stay out of his way unless he gets in mine. Really, it's starting to look more and more like we could be the last two left. I try to remember how many tributes are still alive.

Last time I asked Arowana, she said nine. Since then, I know of three that have died, but I may have missed a cannon while I was asleep this morning. I rack my brain, attempting to remember who's left. The girl from one and the boy from two. Me. Titus. Those are the only ones that I'm sure of. I wasn't awake for the anthem last night, so I don't know who survived the tornado and who it killed. I guess that doesn't matter too much. It really isn't necessary to know who I'm going to kill. Just how. And now that I think about it, my plan doesn't have to change at all. Now there are so few fish in this ocean that it doesn't matter if I catch one fish or a school of them. I just have to keep fishing until they're all gone.

I walk and look, not really expecting to find anyone since the arena is so big and there are so few tributes. Add that to the fact that this day has sort of sucked for me, and I'm not liking my chances of getting a kill today. So you can imagine how shocked I am when I actually get the opportunity to put my plan in action. Catching a glimpse of the footprints is sheer luck. I have never tried tracking anything in my life, but the rain from the night before had left the ground nice and soft, making the imprints very easy to see.

Before going any further, I climb up the nearest tree with my binoculars to locate the owner of the footprints. I start out by looking through the immediate area, but when I don't see anyone, I search up until the spot where all the trees had been uprooted by the tornado. There's no reason that a tribute would go there- no hiding places or visible sources of water- so I stop once I get to that point.

I sigh and lean back against the tree, knowing that it'd be so easy for me to miss her in here. For all I know she could be tucked behind a tree just a hundred feet in front of me. It'd be useless to keep looking for her. I can't give up on such an easy target though, so I do a more thorough search, covering every square inch of ground this time. I'm about to give up again when I notice a flash of blue moving between the trees about a quarter mile away. Once I zoom in, I see the girl from District 12, collecting berries. She's halfway behind a tree, which is why I missed her the first time I looked.

I get down from that tree and follow the footprints until I'm satisfied that I'm close enough for the girl to hear me. Then I drape my net over my back, grab my trident, and climb onto a well concealed branch in another tree. I leave the rest of my supplies hiding in a bush, knowing that I'll be able to come back from them later. When I'm ready, I get into the perfect position to throw the net and start coughing the same disgusting cough that came with my pneumonia.

Just like I predict, the girl comes rushing towards the noise, a sword raised up and ready to attack. She slows when she gets within a couple feet of my tree and continues to creep forward, knowing that the coughing came from around this area. I drop the net on her just as she's walking under my branch. This animal-like cry escapes her throat and she starts twisting and struggling and uselessly slicing at the net with her sword until I hop down from the tree and pierce her heart with my trident.

"You'll like it where I sent you. It's better for you there," I tell her gently, then blow her a kiss and collect my things. Nineteen down. Four to go.

I walk another mile or so when I notice that the sky is starting to fill with clouds again. They're white this time, but I know better than to assume that means they're harmless. Since the cave I shared with Arowana is the only shelter that I know of, I start heading back in that direction just incase the clouds do mean something.

At first I continue on slowly, looking for other tributes, but as soon as the temperature makes an unnatural drop, I'm sprinting for the mountains. My coat is in my pack, but since it slows me down so much I figure it'd be easier just to hustle back before it gets too cold, then warm up when I get there.

I make it to the stream right as the snow begins to fall. Since the rocks still hold some of the heat from this morning, it melts before it can pile up, but I know that the Gamemakers aren't going to just cover the arena with a light dusting of snow. It is now obvious that the hazard of this arena is extreme weather and that if what happened the days before this is any indication, then this little bit of snow is going to turn into a full blown blizzard by nightfall.

My prediction is mostly accurate. The light snowfall does evolve into a blizzard, but it's much more quickly than I would've guessed. The snow starts piling up outside just minutes after I'm safely in the cave. It doesn't stop until two days afterwards. My sponsors keep me alive with food. My sleeping bag keeps me warm. I should be fine, but those two days are horrible for my mind.

The first day is spent on thinking.

First, I think of my kills. I have four now. The first one was the hardest. The second one hurt. I didn't even think about the third one. The last one was automatic. I remember talking to Mags, her saying that if I won, I'd walk out of the arena as a different person. I nodded and swore to try. But now, I know that at the time I had no idea how much just a few days could change me. I didn't know that taking another's life could become so easy.

Not just easy. Now it's welcome. I stare at the white wall of snow that's piling up in front of the cave and realize that I'm dying to be out there, fishing for people. I want to feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins like it did when I found that girl. I want to relieve the satisfaction of knowing that I survived when another person couldn't, that I'm smarter and stronger than they were. And most of all, I'm thirsting to get back to District 4, and every single person that I kill brings me one step closer.

Then I think about how this is the first time I've been in this cave without Arowana, and how she could've so easily just not given me that medicine and let me die, but she didn't. I think of how her older brother and stepsister were forced to watch her die like that. I know that this should seem horrible to me, that I should be sad and that I should worry what her family went through. But I'm not sad. I'm numb and hollow and no emotions come.

And the first day is done. The second day is worse. No more hollow thoughts from my half sane mind. Now, the part that is insane takes over. When I get up in the morning, Rafe is sitting right beside me. Part of me knows that he isn't here, but the other part wants him to be here so badly that when my mind is nice enough to bring him I don't even try to send him away.

"Are you coming home soon?" he asks. I start to answer, then remember that I am on national tv and people are watching. It would not play well if the Capitol's golden boy started talking to himself. I make myself stay silent. Rafe doesn't seem to even notice. He starts telling old stories about us that I only half listen to.

To me, they're boring. The Finnick in those stories isn't the one that's sitting in the cave. It's like he's talking about an entirely different person. I hold the trident necklace he gave me tightly in my hand, trying to bring the old Finnick back. I want myself to listen to these stories and cry because of what I lost and should be missing. Instead, I feel nothing and that scares me more than any tribute in these Games can. Because even if I do get out, how much of me is really going back to District 4?

Rafe leaves right after the anthem is done. I don't know if it's just time for him to go, or if he's tired of my lack of response, but he gets up, gives me a hug, and walks out of the cave. I close my eyes and lean back against the wall of the cave, praying that my bout of temporary insanity is over. I'm not that lucky.

When I open my eyes, my mother is beside me. She puts a hand on my shoulders and leads me to the sleeping bag. Then she tucks me in and starts telling beautiful stories from back home, while always keeping an eye out for any tributes that are coming to get me. I know this isn't real because my mother wouldn't do that in a million years, but at least this makes me feel a little like the old Finnick. Not the fourteen year old boy one, but maybe the five year old one who felt safe and protected because his mommy was watching over him.

When I wake up the next day my fake mother is gone, but the bright sun quickly extinguishes the dull stab of loneliness that I feel. I rush to the opening in the cave and push my way through the four foot high pile of snow that's built up in front of it. My lungs eagerly welcome the fresh air. The open space and prospect of going fishing again helps clear out my brain and a smile finds its way onto my face. Now is my chance to finish these Games.

As I walk and plan, I realize that I didn't hear a cannon during the blizzard. Not a singe tribute died over the last two days. I'm somewhat disappointed that the remaining field didn't get weeded out a little, but then I realize how good I had it in that cave, with my warm sleeping bag and an army of sponsors waiting to send me a bandage of I gave myself an inch long cut. Even if the blizzard didn't kill anyone, it probably did some damage.

I sing to myself on my way back into the forest, just like I did when Arowana was mad at me. Then, it was to relieve the tension. Now, it's because I'm in a truly good mood. The other tributes are weak, I am strong, and pretty soon I'm going to be back in District 4. Those are actually the words I sing, and they feel so good coming off my tongue that the trip down the mountain and across the now frozen stream takes no time. That's when I hear this indescribable rumbling sound behind me and the words die on my lips.

My ego deflates to it's normal size as I watch the ferocious avalanche rampage down the side of the mountain, bowling over pine tress and blocking all access to the mountain. If I would've left my cave twenty minutes later, I would've been buried alive. My breath catches in my throat when I hear the cannon fire. _That so easily could've been me. _

But it wasn't. I'm here, and whoever was unlucky enough to be on the mountain is there and I can't dwell on that now. I have a job to do and no one is going to stop me. With my net in one hand and trident in the other, I set off to catch the last three fish.

I find the boy from two after just a couple hours of searching. I shouldn't even say find. I stumble into a clearing without seeing any sign of him, then end up noticing him starting a fire. He doesn't hear me until I'm ten feet away from him, and even though he has an impressive little collection of spears lying beside him, I throw the net on him before he can get to one. My trident finds its way into his heart, and I'm one step closer to victory. Before I leave the body, I clean the blood on my trident off in the melting snow. I want it to be shiny when I make the final kill.

An hour later the girl from one finds me instead of the other way around, but even though she has a shield and a sword, I'm ready for her and not the least bit scared.

"So the cocky little boy that can't throw a spear straight is still alive. You had so many of us fooled," she says when I turn to face her.

"Could you really have hurt this beautiful face anyway?" I ask her.

"The beautiful ones are always the most fun to kill," she says. Then she stabs at me with her sword. I duck out of the way just in time, then dash to the nearest tree and pull myself onto a low hanging branch. It bends under my weight but doesn't break, giving me time to move to a more sturdy one.

I'm not that high up, and she knows that she'd be able to reach my feet with her sword, so she does what anyone would do. Walks over to the tree and starts to take a swing. She sees my net just in time to try to back away, but it's too late and she's trapped. Well, mostly. If she had ten seconds, she could get out. The only problem with that is that I finish her off before she has a chance to move.

"I agree," I whisper to her, kneeling beside her dead body and brushing her blonde hair away from her face. Eyes that are the most gorgeous color of blue look up at me. "The beautiful ones are always the most fun to kill." Then I kiss her forehead and walk away.

And then there were two.

I search the entire day but the last tribute doesn't show up. The sun gets higher in the sky and all of the snow melts, making every step squish loudly against the ground, but no one hears me and I hear no one.

Since there's no lightning that night, I sleep in a tree. I stay awake just long enough see the deaths of the two I killed and figure out that Titus was the one who died in the avalanche. I'm glad. That way even if I die tomorrow, none of my body parts will be eaten. That is the happy thought that I fall asleep to.

I wake up after just four hours, but the adrenaline that comes with knowing how close I am to going home makes me feel fully awake. Without hesitation I get down from the tree and start walking, searching for the remaining tribute. All of my senses are on high alert and my trident is ready to kill whatever I see.

The Gamemakers have decided to clean up the arena a little for this final death scene. Somehow the forest floor, which was completely saturated last night is now dry. For the first time since the first day in the arena, the temperature is comfortable and there isn't a cloud in the sky. Even though the first sliver of sunlight is just peeking over the horizon, birds have already started singing cheerful songs. The entire nation will know that today is the day that their golden boy goes home.

I climb a tree every once in a while to take a look around with my binoculars, but the mystery tribute just won't appear. For a moment I consider making noise to attract him/her to me, but I don't want to end up getting an arrow in my head for my troubles. It'd help if I could figure out who's left, so I know what the tribute's strengths and weaknesses are, but that night I missed with pneumonia makes that impossible.

After some deliberation I try the coughing trick again. This tribute doesn't fall for it, but I didn't expect them to. I start to get down from the tree to try something else when the stupidity of that last stunt really dawns on me. If they were anywhere near me, they now know where I am and I have no idea where they are. I hoist myself back onto the branch.

Since there isn't much to do, I get a little bit higher and look around with the binoculars again, but my luck isn't any better than my last few tries.

I go back down to my original branch and bury my face in my hands. This so frustrating. Why can't the stupid tribute just come out here and fight?

Then I realize I may know the answer to that. They most likely figure that they don't have a real chance against me. So without thinking it through at all, I let my trident slide through my fingers just slightly, lean forward to grab it, and let myself fall onto the forest floor.

The wind is knocked out of me, it feels like I bruised my ribs pretty good, but I can still move and think. I pretend otherwise though, moaning and just laying there like I sustained a major injury to my spine.

I don't let myself look around because that'd break my ruse, but my ears are listening intently for the sound of any footsteps. At first, I hear nothing. Five minutes pass, then ten, and I start to doubt that my plan worked. Then I hear the soft crackle of leaves followed by the whiz of a spear looking to lodge itself in my forehead. Despite the protest from my ribs, I raise my trident and deflect the spear, then get to my feet in a quick, although shaky movement. When I look up, I'm staring into the bright green eyes of the girl from 7, her fiery red hair blowing around her face and an axe in her hand, ready to finish me off. With a fluid movement that I'd practiced thousands of times before, I reach into my belt and grab one of my knives, then flick it towards the girl.

I'm impressed that she reacts quickly enough to deflect that, but sadly the knife would've only injured her. She would've been better off if she let that hit her and tried to defend herself against my trident, which I send through her stomach when he attention is on my knife. My father taught me that, and for some reason the only thought going through my head as I yank that trident out of her body is that I'm going to have to thank him for that when I get home.

Then trumpets start blaring and Claudius Templesmith's voice fills arena.

"I am pleased to present the victor of the 65th Hunger Games. Finnick Odair."

That's when it really sinks in that I won. That I am going home.


	9. There Is No Victory

**This is the lst, but a long chapter. I really hope that everyone enjoyed the story, and I appreciate your reviews. Just a reminder, this continues directly into Eyes Like the Ocean, which is the nearly completed sequel. Thank you so much for reading. Please tell me what you thought. **

A hovercraft appears out of nowhere and a ladder drops out of it. For a second I wonder if some tribute is trying to trick me, then I remind myself that there are no more tributes. This is the end. The thought makes me feel almost sick, but I grab the ladder anyway. As soon as I touch the metal, I'm frozen in place, and I can't help but try to fidget, feeling uncomfortable in such a vulnerable position. I can't convince myself to relax for several more minutes.

I don't see anyone the entire way to the training center. That makes me even more nervous and again I have to wonder if this is a trick. Shouldn't people be congratulating me? Where's Alva? Mags? Why aren't they on the hovercraft?

When we land on the roof of the training center twenty minutes later, I do relax. They're probably in here. That's why they didn't come. This is no trick.

I'm lowered into the training center, and then Alva is there with two big guards behind her. What are they there for? Did something bad happen in the Capitol, is there a security breach?

Then I notice the cautious glances they throw in my direction. They're protecting her from me. Don't they know that I wouldn't kill Alva? Well, no, they don't. Because I don't know that myself. Actually, seeing her, those two guards beside her. A spark of distrust and betrayal hits me. In an instant, my hand is tightening around a trident that isn't there, because things that I don't trust are threats that must be eliminated. I don't think it, but I can feel it. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought.

"Finnick," she says cautiously.

"Yes?" It's weird to talk again, at least to someone who isn't trying to kill me. Even more weird when I'm wondering about killing her.

"We're going to take you to the hospital. That's okay, isn't it?"

"I don't need a hospital. I'm fine."

"It's just to clean up a few scars. You'll be out of there in an instant." That doesn't sound too bad.

"Okay. I'll go." Then the two guards both take a step forward and I can tell that they're going to restrain me, and even though I know they aren't a real threat, my body doesn't register that fact. I punch one without any real command from my brain, and when the other one grabs onto me my legs start kicking and I start trying to jab him with my elbows.

"Let me go," I growl. A doctor in sterile white clothes comes in with a needle. At that point and my flailing becomes desperate. "Please, just let me go," I cry. They don't listen and the needle jabs me from behind.

Nightmares haunt my sleep. I have pneumonia and I'm coughing constantly, unable to stop. I double over on myself, hacking up blood, my entire body shaking from it. I don't even see Titus walk up behind me with his knife. I don't feel it until it's sticking out of my back. But I don't die, and I don't stop coughing, and every single time I gasp for air the knife hurts worse and worse until I start crying. Over and over again I try to beg Titus to kill me, but I'm coughing too hard to get the words out. He watches and laughs while I scream and cry and spray blood all over the ground.

I wake up with a jolt, my hair drenched in sweat and my throat hoarse. Tears are trickling down my face. I wipe them away quickly, but there's no one to see me. Why isn't anyone here? Can't they hear my screams? Why don't they help me?

I try to sit up and look around, but a thick metal band holds me in place and my screams start again as I struggle to break free. What are they doing to me? Why won't they let me go?

"Mags, help me. Mags." I try screaming but I'm so broken down that my words come out in sobs. Everyone is after me, they all want me dead and now I'm such an easy target. I have to get free.

"Damn it, they're coming for me." Titus laughs behind me, then I see the boy from One standing beside my bed, sharpening the weapon that he used to kill Arowana. The girl from Seven walks through the door with an axe in her hand and my trident stuck in her chest. The girl from One is right behind her, wearing the net of vines like a cape, her beautiful eyes glowing with rage.

All of them close in on me, kicking my bed, pulling my hair.

The girl from one leans down and whispers in my ear, "The beautiful ones are always the most fun to kill." Then she throws the net on top of me. The girl from seven rips my trident from her chest and holds it up, ready to stab it into mine.

"Help," I whimper, terror making the word unintelligible.

"Finnick, calm down," someone snaps. I curl up into a ball at the harsh command. My eyes squeeze shut and I brace myself for an attack.

"Honey, it's going to be okay." Mags. That's Mags. I open my eyes and she's looking down at me. All the other tributes are gone.

_Of course they're gone. They were all dead in the first place. _That thought doesn't reassure me. What if I imagined them dying, if winning was just a dream? No, it isn't. Mags is here. I'm in a hospital. The Games are over.

"I'm safe, right?" I ask her, feeling so much like an innocent little kid again.

"For now," Borglum grunts. That's the voice I heard first, and his words make me panic.

"Is that why they're holding me here? What are they going to do to me?" Mags shoots him a look.

"He's young and stupid," she says to me, which is ironic since he's twice my age. "Just ignore him." But I can't get this gnawing sensation out of my gut that something bad will happen.

Both of them leave then, and I'm left by myself. At first I'm resolved to stay awake, but whatever they're pumping into my bloodstream makes that impossible. I'm back in the arena within minutes. Titus is my companion once again, which I find ironic since I never even faced him in the Games.

But then it's not, because he's always the one that I had the most to fear from. I feel the full reality of that in my nightmare, when he catches me in my cave and proceeds to cut off all of my limbs again. Except this time, he eats them as I lie there in pain, forced to watch. After all of my fingers and half of my toes are gone, Mags shakes me awake. I'd been screaming.

This time the band around my waist is gone, along with the tubes. A bowl of soup is sitting beside me, and I shovel it into my mouth. I've eaten less since I've been back from the arena than I did when I was in there. When I complain to Mags, she makes a face and says, "Standard protocol." Then, with a small smile, she adds, "But you'll eat with us after the recap tonight. They're letting you out of here in a couple of hours."

Tonight? What are they thinking? How will I be ready by tonight?

I don't complain too much though, because I am relived to be leaving the hospital. I'm positive that the nightmares will stop when I'm out of this stupid hospital, and that maybe things will get back to normal too. If not here, then surely I can find myself again in my District 4.

"When do I get to go home?" I ask her.

"You have the recap tonight, a final interview tomorrow, and then you're done until the victory tour." I relax and actually crack a little smile.

"Maybe then things will get back to normal." Then Mags gets this look on her face, and even though she covers it up fast, I can see that for her, things still aren't normal.

"Yes, maybe," she says, but I really don't hear her.

Two hours later I'm taken to my prep team. Cesario gives me a huge hug when he sees me, and I return it lightly, cautiously, just because being close to someone feels so wrong. Hermia notices my reaction and just gives me a small pat on the back. Then both of them start going on and on about the Games.

They go into detail on every single one of my kills. They talk about how sweet Arowana and I were together. They compliment my amazing plan to trap the tributes with the net. And they don't shut up about how I faked out the girl from District 7 with a knife. They tell me her name was Leah. Behind me, that girl had the most kills in the Games. She used her axe.

"Oh, it was the most exciting match up I have ever seen," Cesario croons. I've gritted my teeth the entire time, since they aren't exactly helping me forget about the Games, but that one hits me in a totally different way. Just the way he casually says it, like he's watching one of the wrestling tournaments at our school, drives me crazy. I shake it off. It's just the people of the Capitol. They're raised that way. It isn't their fault.

I ignore their babble after that. Something tells me that if I listen, I'll hear something I don't like and do something stupid. So I just sit there and focus on all the little things they're doing. Cutting my shaggy hair. Whitening my teeth. Applying just small touches of makeup even though I really don't need it. It's boring to watch, and I'm thinking about letting myself get mad at them and maybe go after them with scissors or something, when Silvia comes in and shoos them away.

She must sense that I'm not in the mood for talking, because she dresses me in silence. This time she puts me in thick black leggings and a billowy sea green button down shirt. She has me tuck the shirt in, then adds a belt studded with enough precious stones to feed my district for a year, and knee high black leather boots with sea green stitching. Lastly, she hands me my trident necklace.

"They took it off when you were in the hospital. I made sure to get it for you," she says when my hands go flying to my neck. I hadn't even realized it was gone.

"Oh. Thank you," I tell her. She nods, then makes the finishing touches. A little extra makeup here, unbutton my shirt there, and I'm ready.

"Finnick, I know that the Games were hard on you, but just remember that this isn't the last time you're going to see the Capitol. Try to keep some of your old attitude." I know she's right, so I don't complain. Maybe it'll help me find myself again anyway.

"I will," I say. Then Alva comes in and ushers me to the same level where we trained. Except this time we turn away from the training room and I find myself underneath a stage. It's tradition for the victor, along with anyone who helped them win, to raise from the stage. I, of course, am the grand finale. My prep team is due to go first. I already see Cesario and Hermia chirping to each other, frantically adjusting the other's ridiculous costume. Then I notice Mags, wearing a shining blue dress and looking ten years younger than I've ever seen her, walking over to me.

"Do you remember when I told you that you were too cocky before?" she asks me. How could I forget?

"Yes."

"Well, you should be even worse now. You just won the Hunger Games with more style than the Capitol has seen in a long time. So why are you acting like you're at a funeral?"

"Because, I am." She shakes her head.

"Finnick, listen to me. You came out of the Games alive. You'll see your family again. Your friends. When you get back to District Four, you will meet her family and be able to help them, as well as others. You have a bright future ahead of you, a future that so many dream about. Try not to waste it by dwelling on the past."

"I'm not going to forget the Games," I tell her. She reaches up and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I know that. I still haven't forgot it. But that doesn't mean I gave up living. Don't settle for being who the Games made you, strive to become the person that you know you were, that you know you still can be. I told you the importance of changing to win the Hunger Games. Now, it's even more important to change again. The victors that don't are always the ones who don't last very long."

"But what if I can't change back?" I ask. Now I'm all too aware of how my body is instinctually ready to spring at any threat. My hands are itching to hold my trident, and most of all, I still have the same hollow feeling inside that scared me so badly in the cave. It's like some part of me is missing.

"Don't worry, you're too good of a person not to." Too good of a person? Did she watch the Games.

"I don't think-" She holds up a hand.

"Later. I have to go now." Then she walks away. A minute later, the crowd is chanting her name and I know that I'm next. I step onto my metal plate and rise onto the stage to the deafening screams of the Capitol audience. My name is being chanted everywhere, and marriage proposals ring through the air. I paste on my best smile and take my place on a throne at center stage.

Caesar Flickerman goes through his usual commentary, joking with the crowd a little, and then the three hour recap starts.

First there's the Reaping from District 4. I shake my head slightly when I watch myself strut onto the stage smiling. I remember how I was already thinking about what the Games were going to be like and how mistaken I really was. Right before they cut away from the Reapings, they show a close up of Arowana and I shaking hands.

At the time there was nothing friendly about the handshake, but the way they show it, the music they play with it, makes it very obvious that they're using it as a future premonition. I feel my heart give this painful little squeeze when I realize that I haven't even thought of Arowana since I left the arena.

Now, I can't forget her. When they show the opening ceremonies, I ignore myself and the other tributes, but focus on her. Her blonde hair, her bright eyes, the small smile she had on her face. She seemed so alive. And now she's dead. She died in my arms. It takes everything I have to hold back the tears that start forming in my eyes.

After the ceremonies, they show the training scores and the interviews. When that's done, the Games begin. They show Arowana fighting at the Capitol and I wish I could've told them to leave that out because she would've hated it. But it's done too quickly to worry about for too long

They flash through all the death scenes, but focus especially on Arowana's. They play the whole thing, adding this soft lullaby to the back ground that makes the entire thing seem so much worse.

I know I can't hold back the tears, so I don't even try. By the time she takes her last breath, the front of my shirt is soaked.

Then the truly horrible part of the Games start. Before, whenever they showed me, I seemed human. Someone you'd like to hang out with. Now, I'm a cold blooded killer.

The look in my eyes when I'm hunting the girl from Twelve makes me want to throw up. I can see in full how blood thirsty I am as I watch myself track her down, then trick her into coming after me. Then the worst part comes and it makes me feel like dirt.

I can't even remember whispering to her, and I know that I would never blow her the kiss. But something deep down inside me knows that I did. My face turns pale white and I want to throw up.

But that isn't the worst part. The death of the boy from two doesn't help, but I can hardly stand it when I recount what I did with the girl from one. My fingers dig into the cushion of my throne when I brush her hair from her face. My jaw clamps down hard when I whisper to her. When I say that the beautiful ones are the most fun to kill. _Fun. I said fun. _And I know I did more than just say it. In that arena, killing was fun. And if I was thrown back in there, I bet that I'd go right back to the thing that I was at the end of the Games. The thing that flirts with the girls he kills.

And the part that's really horrible is that the Capitol's cheering is loudest at those parts. I'm sure that I hear them whispering my words over and over again like they're historic quotes. I worry that they will be.

That thought almost makes me break down right now stage, but I do manage to make it through the rest of the film. When the lights come back on and the thing is done, I pull myself together long enough for the Victory Banquet at the president's mansion.

The banquet flies by in a blur of sponsors and Capitol officials arguing for pictures, Mags warning me away from the alcohol, and trips to the bathroom when I'm in danger of losing it.

It's boring and I'm in a horrible mood anyway, so I'm nothing but thankful when it's done. Because as soon as I'm back in my room, I run to the bed and start sobbing.

Mags comes in after five minutes and sits beside me. For a second she looks at me crying, my entire body shaking, then she takes my hand in hers.

"I didn't know Mags," I choke out. "I had no idea how bad I was."

"Calm down," she says soothingly. I try to take a deep breath, but it ends up turning into a sob.

"What am I?" I ask her desperately.

"You're a boy who was forced to grow up too quickly under the worst circumstances possible. You did nothing wrong."

"Those people…" Then Mags leans in and whispers in my eyes.

"Don't blame yourself for the Capitol's deeds," she breathes, the words barely loud enough for me to hear. The tears stop and I stare at her in shock. I've never heard anyone talk about the Capitol that way, and I know that it's strictly forbidden. Then I also realize that it's true.

The Capitol threw me in the arena with those other kids. They forced me to kill others to keep my own life. It wasn't me, not directly, that killed those tributes. It was the Capitol. And in that second all of my self-hatred turns into loathing for them.

"I get what you're saying," I say, my voice still thick with tears but now also determined.

"Always remember that," Mags says. Then she's gone and I'm left by myself. Broken, but now on the path to recovery.

The next day is the day of my final interview. Silvia puts me in an outfit similar to the one I wore yesterday, then leads me to a room down the hall. Caesar Flickerman is there in a dark blue wig, talking with one of the camera people. When he sees me he smiles and walks over.

"I looks like you've had a tough week," he says. I have to crack a small smile at that.

"That would be an understatement," I answer. He pats me on the back and smiles.

"Don't worry, you're a strong kid. You'll pull through." And somehow I know that even though he's from the Capitol, he does really care about his tributes. In the way that a farmer would care about his livestock, but still. At least he cares.

Then someone leads me to a chair and Caesar sits across from me, and seconds later the cameras are rolling.

"So Finnick, I guess you proved to be correct when you said that you were going home," he says to start off. I give a smile to the viewers.

"What did I tell you? And now I'm so glad that I got this out of the way now so I don't have another four years of school," I joke. I can feel my old self, the one that always liked everyone to be happy, coming back out.

"Speaking of that, how does it feel to be the second youngest winner in the history of the Games." Wow. That's an interesting tidbit. I guess when you're as vicious as I got, age isn't that important.

"It's nothing really special. I was bigger than most of the tributes anyway, and I had a good ally for the first part of the Games. She saved my butt a few times." I really don't want to talk about Arowana with Caesar, especially after what Mags said last night, but I also want everyone to know how much I cared for her.

"Arowana," he says softly. "Would you mind telling us about your relationship?"

So I tell them. About how we hated each other so badly at first, but then she gradually grew on me until she was close enough to me that her death pushed me over the edge in the arena.

"She was such a good person," I say. "And I don't want anyone to forget her."

"You don't have to worry about that," Caesar says. Then, in sharp contrast to those words, he asks, "Now that we're on the subject of girls in your life, what are you going to do about that problem when you get home?" I smile.

"I'm fourteen, I have time for all that. Right now, I have two real girls in my life. My little sister Daisy, and Arowana's stepsister, Annie. Maybe when I get older I'll find someone, but there's no one waiting for me back home.

"I'll bet that there are quite a few young ladies out there that are happy with that news," Caesar says with a chuckle. _And not so young ladies, _I think.

"Like I said, if anyone's interested they'll have to wait a while," I clarify. "Besides, I'll be too busy with my victory tour to start a relationship anyway." Then that's the end of that subject. Caesar talks about the Games a little bit, then goes to my family and a few other things, and before I know it the interview is done. Alva takes me back to my room, reminding me again and again that she'll see me soon, then she gives me a hug, I grab my suitcase, and before I know it, I'm on the train back to District Four.

* * *

Rafe sits in the sand and lets the waves wash onto his bare feet. I'm in the water, lying on my back and watching the stars.

I got back five hours ago. There was chaos at first. Girls, cameras, and of course my actual friends, were all vying for my time. I shook hands, smiled for the cameras, and gave a few hugs, but I'll even admit I was being sort of a jerk to get them to all leave sooner. Yet, despite my best efforts, they stuck around until nine.

Then I ran off to find Rafe.

He was sitting outside on his porch steps. When he heard me coming, he looked up and met my eyes. Then, without a word, we headed for the ocean, just because it's what we always do.

I jumped in right away, but Rafe stayed on the beach. That doesn't bother me. The water is ice cold, so I wasn't expecting him to come in.

We haven't moved a muscle or said a word since we got here.

"Do you want your necklace back?" I ask Rafe all of the sudden. We'd been so silent that I just had to say something. Usually we can't keep our mouths shut. Or at least I can't.

"Keep it," he says. More silence. The water gets too cold for me to stand so I turn around and swim to shore in smooth, even strokes. Rafe starts to get up.

"We don't have to go." He dusts sand off of his ragged shorts.

"I have school tomorrow." I grab his arm and he flinches. I drop it immediately and step away, now knowing exactly what is going on. The fear in his eyes is too plain for me to think otherwise.

"I should get home too," I say, trying to make it sound casual, but my voice breaks at the end. Then I turn and run.

"Finnick, stop," he calls after me. I hear him running after me, but I don't stop. The one person that I thought I'd really be able to talk to when I got home is scared of me. I don't want explanations or excuses. I want to go back in time, to erase the Games and make everything go back to normal. But I know that normal is impossible and that the Games will never be erased. I will live with them until the day I die.

* * *

**Now remember that reviews make me smile, and I would really like to know what you thought of the story. Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed this. Please feel free to read Eyes Like the Ocean as well and tell me what you think. I hope you enjoyed the story. **


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